iiilMltM|lllll|U)|IIHU4Kmi4i 


^0 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/comradestrueOOthomiala 


COMRADES    TRUE 


BY 

ANNIE    THOMAS 

(MRS.   PENDER   CUDLIP) 
Author  of  "  The  Siren's  Web,"  "That  Other  Woman,"  etc.,  etc. 


NEW    YORK 

M.    BUCKLES    &     COMPANY 

9  AND   It    East   i6th  Strikt 

LONDON  — CHATTO  &  W INDUS 

1900 


Copyright  1900 

BY 

F.    M.   BUCKI,ES   &   COMPANY 


Comrades  True 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    St.  Eirol 5 

U.  The  Wuixl 16 

III.  Miss  St.   Errors  Whim '32 

IV.  Mrs.  Smitliers 39 

V.  A  Decided  Step 46 

VI.  Mr.  Clifford 53 

VII.  Tempted 60 

VIII.  The  Awakening  of  Stella 65 

IX.  Stella'sPlan 73 

X.  A  Striking  Likeness 84 

XI.  On  The  Road 94 

XII.  A  Happy  Day 102 

XIII.  "Am  I  Ugly?" ; Ill 

XIV.  A  Parting 121 

XV.  A  Fatal  Interruption 131 

XVI.  Fliglit 141 

XVII.  Good  Resolutions 152 

XVIII.  Tlio  Eve  of  the  Wedding 102 

XIX.  At  the  Hulk 176 

XX.  Stella  Wants  to  Know 188 

XXI.  The  Caaket 197 

iii 


2138576 


iv  Contents. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXII.  The  Failure  of  Captain  Bentick 203 

XXIII.  Lord  St.  Errol's  Gift 215 

XXIV.  Strained  Relations 230 

XXV.  "  It's  Not  Too  Late  " 244 

XXVI.  "  On,  Stanley,  on  !  " 250 

XXVII.  Difficult  Tasks 260 

XXVIII.  To  The  Front 275 

XXIX.  Brave  and  True 284 

XXX.  Clearing  the  Air 293 

XXXI.  In  Search  of  Her 307 

XXXII.  Larry  Triumphs 317 

XXXIII.  "  Not  More  Than  Others  I  Deserve" 330 

XXXIV.  "  All's  Well " 342 


COMRADES   TRUE. 


CHAPTEK  I. 

ST.    EllROL. 

The  three  were  at  breakfast  in  a  garish  little  sit- 
ting-room in  their  lodgings  in  a  street  leading  out  of  a 
dingy  West  Central  square.  The}'  were  all  young,  hand- 
some, healthy,  happy,  and  poor.  Two  of  them  were 
clerks  in  the  Admiralty  ;  the  third  was  a  fine  fox 
terrier. 

An  open  letter  was  on  the  table,  and  was  continually 
being  read  by  one  or  other  of  the  two  young  men.  It 
was  from  a  lawyer,  and  contained  the  staggering  intelli- 
gence that  by  the  death  of  a  distant  cousin  of  his  late 
father's,  St.  Errol  (the  younger  of  the  two  men)  had 
inherited  the  title  of  Lord  St.  Errol  and  the  property 
which  went  with  it.  It  was  also  stated  in  the  letter 
that  his  late  lordship  had  appointed  his  successor 
guardian  to  his  adopted  child. 

The  young  fellow  who  had  been  raised  so  abruptly 
from  poverty  to  riches  was  bewildered  but  not  elated. 

"  A  chap  ought  to  Ijc  prepared  for  a  thing  of  this 
kind.     It's  like  taking  a  cart-horse  and  entering  him 

5 


6  Comrades  True. 

for  racing  Avith  thoronglibreds,''  he  said  resentfully, 
after  another  long  look  at  the  letter. 

' '  Have  yon  never  heard  that  you  were  the  heir-pre- 
snmptive  to — to  this  ?  "  Stanley  asked. 

"  No  ;  knew  nothing  about  it.  My  father  and  mother 
died  when  I  was  three  years  old,  and  my  uncle,  my 
mother's  brother,  brought  me  up  and  launched  me. 
He  died  last  year,  and  the  only  friends  I  have  in  the 
world  are  you — and  Jock." 

Jock's  tail  wagged  approvingly.  Solemnity  had  pre- 
vailed this  day  at  the  usually  lively  morning  meal,  and 
Jock  had  grown  low-spirited.  Now,  at  the  loving 
mention  of  his  name  he  kindled  up,  laid  a  friendly 
head  against  his  master's  knee,  and  gazed  with  ill-con- 
cealed anxiety  at  a  scrap  of  bacon  on  his  master's  plate. 

"  You'll  have  more  friends  now  than  you  can  easily 
count.  Lord  St.  Errol.  Now  I  must  be  off  to  the 
office,"  Stanley  said,  laughing  lightly,  and  jumping  up 
as  he  spoke. 

"  So  must  I,"  said  St.  Errol. 

"  Nonsense,  old  boy  !  Yon  have  dozens  of  things  to 
do.  You  have  to  get  clothes,  in  the  first  place,  and,  by 
Jove  !  you'll  have  to  look  sharp,  for  the  funeral  is  to- 
morrow, I  see." 

"Don't  say  anything  about  it  to  the  other  fellows," 
St.  Errol  pleaded. 

"My  dear  boy,  you  forget  that  it  will  be  in  all  the 
evening  pajoers.  You  seem  to  forget  that  you  and  I  are 
journalists,  and  are  bound  to  supply  such  an  interesting 
bit  of  news  to  those  who  have  enabled  us  to  have  butter 
of  sorts  with  our  bread  lately." 

"  You'll  go  down  with  me  to-morrow,  Stanley  ?  " 

"Yes,  if  you  wish  it.     Pull  yourself  together,   my 


St.  Errol.  7 

boy  ;  it's  a  sudden  blow,  I  know,  but  a  blow  from  good 
fortune  is  better  than  one  from  bad." 

"  I  don't  feel  like  myself.  Last  night  we  speculated 
as  to  whether  we  could  run  to  a  chicken  and  bottled  ale 
for  dinner  this  evening,  and  now " 

'*  You  are  Lord  St.  Errol,  with  ten  thousand  a  year 
and  a  ward." 

*'  Oh,  I  forgot  that.  I  wonder  whether  the  kid's  a 
boy  or  a  girl.     What  shall  I  do  with  it  ?  " 

*'  Get  it  a  nurse  and  some  Swiss  milk  and  IMellin's 
Food  and  a  bottle  ;  that's  what  my  sister  always  does 
when  she  has  babies." 

'•  I  say,  Stanley,  we  can  take  our  tour  round  the 
world  now,  and  if  it's  a  boy  we  will  take  it  with  us." 

'-'  Bottle,  Mellin's  Food,  nurse,  and  all  the  accompani- 
ments ?  Yes  ;  you  can  travel  with  those  joys,  my  dear 
fellow,  but  I  must  stick  to  my  work  here.  I  haven't 
ten  thousand  a  year,  yon  must  remember." 

"But  I  have,  and  all  that's  mine  is  thine,  laddie." 

"  Fm  not  going  to  let  you  pauperize  me,"  Stanley 
said,  laughing,  but  catching  hold  warmly  of  the  young 
man's  hand  as  he  spoke.  "  Now  I'm  off.  Good-bye, 
Jock  ;  you  shall  soon  w'alk  in  silk  attire — in  other 
words,  have  endless  rats  to  kill.  I'll  get  leave  for  this 
afternoon  and  helj)  you  to  prepare  for  your  onerous 
duties,  St.  Errol." 

"  Fm  glad  the  name  and  title  go  together.  I'm  glad 
Fm  St.  Errol  still." 

Stanley  turned  away  quickly,  wliistling  gaily,  but 
there  was  a  moisture  in  his  eyes  that  was  not  caused  by 
hay  fever  or  the  influenza  fiend. 

When  he  was  gone  St.  Errol  flung  himself  on  to  a 
slippery,   hard   horsehair  sofa,  and  tried   to   rest  and 


8  Comrades  True. 

think  out  the  case.  He  could  do  neither.  Presently 
he  got  up  and  looked  at  himself  in  a  glass  that  had 
wavy  lines  across  it — lines  that  elongated  one  feature 
and  foreshortened  another. 

"  I  can't  see  whether  I've  altered  or  not  ;  I'm  dazed. 
Jock,  come  here.  '  If  I  be  I,  as  I  suppose  I  be,  I've  a 
little  dog  at  home,  and  he'll  know  me.' "  He  held  his 
arms  out,  and  Jock's  response  was  a  bound  into  them 
and  then  a  slobbering  lick  on  his  master's  face. 
"  You're  just  the  same  old  fellow,  anyhow,"  St.  Errol 
said  contentedly  ;  and  then  he  rang  for  his  landlady, 
and  broke  the  news,  that  was  sad  for  her,  gently. 

"  We've  all  been  so  'appy  here,  sir — my  lord,  I  mean 
— that  it  seems  bitter — that's  what  it  is — that  Mr. 
Stanley  and  I  should  have  to  part  with  you  and  Jock. 
There  never  was  a  better  dog  nor  a  nicer  gentleman  in 
a  house  than  Jock  and  you,  sir — my  lord,  I  mean — but 
your  lordship  must  excuse  me  ;  it's  all  so  new." 

"  It's  all  new  to  me,  too,  Mrs.  Bingham,  but  I  can't 
help  it,  you  know." 

"  And  the  Lady  upstairs,  she'll  feel  it  dreadful,  I 
know.  She  hasn't  much  amusement,  and  it  does  in- 
terest her  so  to  watch  you  two  gentlemen  go  in  and  out. 
And  she's  that  fond  of  Jock  that  she  always  has  him 
up  with  her  when  you're  away,  and  I  believe  gives  him 
half  her  dinner  most  days." 

"  I  didn't  know  there  was  a  lady  upstairs." 

"  Oh  yes,  my  lord.  She  has  been  here  six  months — 
quite  the  lady,  but  not  too  well  off.  She's  a  singer, 
and  it's  beautiful  to  hear  her — such  a  voice  !" 

"I've  never  heard  her." 

"  She  never  practises  when  you  gentlemen  are  in,  and 
she  would  be  angry  with  me  if  she  knew  I  was  talking 


St.  Errol.  9 

about  lier  now.  She  thinks  you  have  gone  to  your 
otliee  as  usual,  and  so  presently  she'll  begin  to  practise, 
and  then  you'll  hear  something  like  singing.  .Shall  I 
leave  the  door  open,  my  lord  'i  " 

"  Xo,  shut  it,"  he  said  testily. 

And  the  landlady,  who  had  dunned  liim  for  a  week's 
lodging  money  the  night  before,  courtscyed  humbly  and 
went  out  of  the  room. 

In  the  room  above  the  sitting-room  of  the  comrades 
three  a  woman  was  sitting  reading.  Now  and  again,  as 
the  voices  reached  her  from  the  room  below,  she  moved 
impatiently,  and  then  she  muttered  : 

"  Why  doesn't  that  boy  go  ?  I  must  have  an  hour's 
practice  before  I  go  to  Devigne." 

Impatient  as  she  was  inwardly,  she  made  a  pretty 
restful  picture  as  she  sat  flung  at  ease  in  a  big  arm- 
chair that  had  a  habit  of  slightly  rocking  through 
having  lost  one  of  its  castors. 

Superficial  people  said  she  ''had  a  lovely  voice,  and 
was  dark  and  relined-looking."  People  who  were  not 
superficial,  and  who  looked  below  the  surface,  declared 
her  to  be  "  the  sort  of  woman  women  dread,  men  fatally 
adore." 

What  was  she  like  ?  Very  much  like  the  central 
figure  in  Leslie's  charming  picture  called  ''  School  Re- 
visited " — plaintively  jiretty,  but  yet  with  a  good  deal 
of  power  and  force  in  her  delicate  frame  and  face ;  a 
woman  who  had  been  compelled  to  fight  the  battle  of 
life  early. 

**  He  must  have  gone  l)y  this  time,"  she  said  aloud, 
aa  she  rose  and  opened  the  door  and  called  ''Jock! 
Jock  ! " 

No  response. 


10  Comrades  True. 

"  What  can  have  happened  to  the  dog  ?  "  she  said, 
and  ran  downstairs  as  slie  spoke. 

She  was  met  by  Jock  and  Jock's  master. 

"  I  thought  you  were  gone,  and  Jock  always  comes  to 
me  wlien  you  are  out, "she explained,  with  a  little  gasp. 

"  Happy  Jock  ! "  Lord  St.  Errol  murmured,  but  she 
would  not  seem  to  hear  him. 

Mrs.  Bingham  arrived  upon  the  scene,  and  to  a  cer- 
tain extent  saved  the  situation. 

"  His  lordship  is  that  fond  of  Jock  that  he  must  be 
grateful  to  you  for  all  the  notice  you  have  taken  of  the 
dog,"  Mrs.  Clifford." 

"  And  for  all  the  notice  I  shall  take  still,"  Mrs 
Clifford  answered,  graciously  bowing  her  head  as  she 
turned  to  go  up  to  her  own  room. 

St.  Errol  stood  for  a  minute  or  two  in  the  hall,  then 
he  called  the  landlady. 

"  Tell  Mrs.  Clifford  that  Mr.  Stanley  and  I  shall  be 
out  the  whole  day.  Her  practice  must  not  be  inter- 
fered with." 

"  I  have  always  said  you  were  a  real  gentleman,"  said 
Mrs.  Bingham  ajDplaudingly. 

But  St.  Errol  was  not  listening  to  her.  The  words, 
"And  for  all  the  notice  I  shall  take  still,"  spoken  by 
the  loveliest  lips  he  had  ever  seen,  were  ringing  in  his 
ears. 

Money  is  power.  Tailors,  outfitters,  and  others  vied 
with  one  another  in  attending  to  his  lordshii^'s  esteemed 
orders  so  successfully  that  he  was  fully  equipped  for 
the  fray  when  he  started  to  attend  the  funeral  of  the 
late  lord  the  next  day.  It  was  only  a  two  hours'  run 
from  town  to  Rose-in- Vale,  the  lovely  little  place  where 
Lord  St.  Errol  had  died,  but  those  two  hours  seemed 


St.  Errol.  ii 

long  to  Stanley,  who  got  tired  of  St.  Errol's  rhapsodies 
about  Mrs.  ClilTord's  eyes  and  lips  and  manner  after 
about  five  minutes. 

"She  timed  her  api)earance  well.  You  come  into 
your  title  and  property  at  breakfast,  and  a  couple  of 
hours  later  the  unsojihisticated  artless  beauty  is  at  your 
door  caressing  your  dog,"  Stanley  said  at  last,  with  a 
searching  look  at  St.  Errol. 

"  If  you  had  only  seen  her  you  wouldn't  sneer  in  that 
way." 

"  My  dear  St.  Errol,  I  am  not  sneering,  and  I  have 
seen  her  many  times." 

*'  Do  you  know  her  ?  "  St.  Errol  asked,  subduing 
with  an  effort  the  appearance  of  the  interest  he  felt. 

"  Xever  spoke  to  her  in  my  life.  She's  too  pretty, 
proud,  poor,  and  good  for  an  impecunious  fellow  like 
myself  to  attemi>t  to  know,  and  you  had  better  let  the 
acquaintance  which  began  with  Jock  on  your  doormat 
cease,  old  chap." 

St.  Errol's  head  went  up  a  full  inch,  but  he  could 
not  on  this  first  day  of  his  elevation  cavil  at  anything 
his  faithful  friend  said,  so  he  gave  a  twist  to  the  con- 
versation by  saying  : 

"Smithcrs  tells  me  that  Rose-in-Vale  is  only  a  small 
place,  a  recent  fancy  of  my  predecessor's.  The  cradle 
of  our  race  is  Errol  Castle,  up  in  Cheshire.  A  castle, 
and  I  the  owner  of  it  !   What  times  we'll  have,  Stanley  !" 

"  Many  a  good  time  still,  I  hope,  but  you  mustn't 
wax  fat  and  well-living.  I  hope  you  will  go  on  working 
at  the  book  ;  you  were  so  proud  of  the  opening  chapter 
of  that  novel  the  day  before  yesterday.  Don't  let  it 
ccji-sc  to  interest  you  because  your  point  of  view  of  life 
has  changed." 


12  Comrades  True. 

"  I'll  write  it,  never  fear." 

"  And  get  it  published  on  its  own  merits.  Don't 
stick  yonr  title  on  the  title-page.  I'll  negotiate  all  the 
business  for  you,  and  we'll  see  '  Dalma '  soar  into  suc- 
cess without  any  adventitious  aids.  Where  did  you  get 
the  name,  by  the  way  ?  " 

"She  sang  at  a  concert  at  the  Imperial  Institute  the 
other  night,  and  the  name  struck  me.  By  Jove  !  some- 
thing else  strikes  me  now,  Stanley.  Mrs.  Clifford  is 
Dalma.  I  thought  I  had  seen  her  face  in  a  vision  be- 
fore when  I  met  her  this  morning  ! " 

"  There  are  too  many  coincidences  knocking  about. 
Hallo  !  we  are  at  our  station,  I  suppose  ?  What  a  neat, 
trim,  little  place  !  '^ 

''  Clayton  !  Change  here  for  Rose-in- Vale  !  "  a  porter 
cried  out,  and  in  another  minnte  a  smart  footman 
was  piloting  the  two  young  men  to  an  equally  smart 
brougham,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  bays  whose  breeding, 
quality,  and  condition  made  them  fit  for  any  show- 
yard. 

There  was  a  good  representative  show  of  the  aristo- 
cracy and  gentry  of  the  county.  Lord  St.  Errol  had 
not  been  popular  while  he  lived,  but  the  neighborhood 
canceled  its  ill-feeling  now,  and  prepared  to  give  a 
warm  welcome  to  the  coming  man.  Everyone  said  he 
"  de])orted  himself  extremely  well  througli  what  must 
have  been  a  trying  ordeal.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  St. 
Errol  did  not  feel  the  ordeal  "  trying,"  except  in  so  far 
as  it  was  a  detaining  ceremony.  lie  was  impatient  to 
fulfil  all  the  duties  that  had  just  devolved  upon  him — 
all  the  temporary  duties,  that  is — in  order  that  he 
might  get  back  to  town  and  see  Jock — and  perhaps 
Mrs.  Clifford? 


St.  Errol.  13 

The  thought  of  tliat  fascinatingly  pretty  woman 
haunted  him.  llow  could  she  have  lived  under  the 
same  roof  with  him  for  six  months  without  his  having 
even  a  dim  glimmering  notion  that  she  was  there  ? 
And  all  the  time  she  had  been  petting  and  feeding  Jock 
without  a  tiiought  of  Jock's  master  ! 

The  service  was  over,  and  the  two  young  men  were 
driving  back  to  Kose-in-Vale.  It  was  in  the  boyliood 
of  the  year.  S^n-ing  was  revelling  in  the  dis2)]ay  of  her 
fresh  beauties  at  Rose-in- Vale.  As  they  drove  through 
the  entrance-gates,  hundreds  of  varieties  of  the  daffodil 
and  narcissus  tribes,  stretching  out  in  their  golden  and 
white  splendor  on  well-kept  and  shaded,  sloping  lawns, 
burst  upon  their  view.  Laburnums  and  acacias  dropped 
their  yellow,  rose  and  white  petals  around  them  as  they 
passed  up  the  drive. 

*'  Your  lines  have  fallen  in  pleasant  places,  dear  old 
boy,"  Stanley  said,  as  the  brougham  drew  up  at  the 
entrance  to  a  house  that  was  sweetly  quaint  in  itself, 
but  was  simply  delicious  now  with  its  veranda  and  bal- 
cony wreathed  with  wisteria  and  Japanese  honey- 
suckle. "  Your  lines  have  fallen  in  pleasant  places. 
You've  been  a  good  chap  through  years  of  poverty. 
Be  a  better  one  now  that  you'll  have  the  handling  of 
riches." 

"  I'll  begin  by  having  a  look  at  the  kid,  and  then 
we'll  discnss  what  we  will  do  with  it,"  St.  Errol  said. 

lie  was  too  much  overcome  by  his  cihaiigcd  prospects 
to  bear  any  reference  to  them,  either  cruel  or  kind,  lie 
found  himself  consulted  by  tlic  Imtler  as  to  what  hour 
he  would  dine,  and  while  he  was  laughing  to  himself  at 
the  remembrance  of  the  way  Stanley  and  he  had  can- 
vassed the  possibility  of  running  to  roast  chicken  and 


14  Comrades  True. 

bottled  beer  for  this  very  night  only  the  day  before, 
he  felt  rather  dazed.  Other  bewildering  servants  were 
waiting  for  orders  which  he  did  not  want  to  give.  He 
heartily  wished  himself  back  with — Jock  ! 

As  he  and  Stanley  stood  in  the  entrance-hall  among 
a  group  of  well-trained  servants  who  did  not  turn  a 
hair  in  all  the  confusion,  a  neat  little  page  pushed  his 
way  to  the  front.  For  an  instant  he  hesitated  as  to 
which  he  should  address.  Then  intuition  came  to  his' 
aid.  "  They  both  may  be  lords,  but  this  is  our  lord," 
he  thought,  and  forthwith  addressed  St.  Errol  with  the 
words  : 

"  If  your  lordship  will  come  this  way,  Miss  St.  Errol 
will  see  you  at  once,  my  lord." 

"  Come  this  way,  Stanley,"  St.  Errol  said,  with  some- 
thing like  a  groan,  and  they  both  followed  the  page 
into  a  room.  "  This  must  be  a  sister  of  the  poor  old 
chap's.  I  didn't  reckon  on  having  to  deal  with  a  maid- 
en tenth  cousin." 

The  room  into  which  they  had  come  was  merely  an 
anteroom,  but  was  the  most  exquisitely  furnished  and 
decorated  living-place  either  of  the  men  had  ever  seen. 
The  panels  of  the  walls  were  enamelled  white,  with 
fine  outlines  of  green,  and  the  green  and  white  chintze 
furniture  carried  out  the  delicate  note  of  color  struck 
by  the  walls.  The  many  little  tables  supported  in- 
numerable bowls  and  baskets  of  white  daffodils,  syringa, 
white  lilac,  and  lilies  of  the  valley,  all  plentifully  inter- 
spersed with  their  own  fresh  green  foliage.  All  these 
details  they  noticed  as  they  passed  quickly  through 
them  between  wide  folding  doors  into  a  far  more  splen- 
did and  spacious  saloon. 

As  they  advanced,  a  lady  in  deejaest  mourning  rose 


St.  Errol.  15 

and  came  slowly  forward  to  meet  them,  while  they 
jiaused  abruptly  in  amazement  :  for  though  the  light 
was  low  in  the  saloon,  they  could  see  the  lady  distinctly 
enough  to  feel  sure  that  she  couUl  not  bo  a  maiden 
sister  of  the  late  old  lord's. 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE  WAKD. 


She  was  quite  a  young  girl,  and,  in  spite  of  the 
cloud  of  sorrow  which  was  darkening  her  face,  they 
saw  that  she  was  a  beautiful  one.  As  St.  Errol  in- 
voluntarily stepped  ahead  of  Stanley,  she  held  her 
hand  out  to  him  with  the  words  : 

^' You  are  Lord  St.  Errol,  I  am  sure." 

^'  I  am,"  he  said,  bowing  very  low  over  her  hand, 
*'  and  you  are " 

''Your  ward — Stella  'St.  Errol,' poor  papa  used  to 
call  me.  But  that  is  not  my  real  name,  and  he  was 
not  my  papa  really.  And  you  are  my  guardian  ?  How 
very  funny  !  " 

"  I  shall  strive  to  prove  true  to  my  trust,"  he  said  so 
gravely  that  she  began  to  laugh. 

"I  expected  to  see  an  old  man,  as  old  as  papa,  walk 
in.  Papa  always  seemed  to  think  his  successor  would 
be  old.  I  have  been  so  dreadfully  afraid  that  the  new 
Lord  St.  Errol  would  have  a  disagreeable  wife  and 
daughters  who  would  want  to  turn  me  out." 

"  Well,  I  have  neither  a  disagreeable  wife  nor 
daughters,  and  if  I  had " 

She  began  to  laugh  again  as  she  said  : 
i6 


The  Ward.  17 

"I  shouki  think  not  I     Fancy  you  witli  a  wife." 

St.  Errol  felt  momentarily  otfendetl,  and  in  that 
moment  remembered  Stanley's  presence. 

**  Let  me  introduce  my  friend — my  greatest  friend, 
Mr.  Stanley — to  you.  Miss  St.  Errol,"  he  said  ;  and 
the  girl  recovered  her  gravity  and  dignity  in  a  moment 
as  she  welcomed  her  guardian's  friend. 

"  Well,  come  and  have  some  luncheon  now.  If  the 
guardian  had  been  old,  with  a  horrid  wife,  he  would 
have  lunched  with  'Sir.  Smithers   alone  ;  but  now " 

She  did  not  say  what  would  happen  "  now,"  but  led 
the  way  through  a  suite  of  rooms  that  were  of  fairy- 
like beauty  in  the  eyes  of  the  young  men  to  a  delici- 
ously  cool  dining-room,  where  they  found  Mr.  Smithers 
and  a  feast  fit  for  the  gods  awaiting  them. 

For  a  minute  or  two  Stella  was  silent.  She  was 
thinking  that  the  last  time  she  had  sat  at  that  table  it 
had  been  with  the  "  papa  "  who  had  taken  her  to  be 
his  child,  and  had  lavished  every  luxury  that  money 
and  love  could  procure  upon  her.  Suddenly  she  roused 
herself.  These  sudden  changes  were  part  of  her  be- 
witching personality,  and  fixing  her  dee])  blue  eyes 
solemnly  on  Stanley,  asked  him  : 

"  Are  you  going  to  live  here,  too  ?  " 

"I?  No,  certainly  not;  I'm  only  a  cleik  in  the 
Admiralty  Office,"  he  said  in  some  confusion. 

**  I  wish  you  were,"  she  said  frankly  ;  "  it  is  so  nice 
to  sit  down  to  a  meal  with  two  or  three  people.  Do 
you  know,  in  all  my  life  I  have  never  sat  down  with 
anyone  but  papa  and  Mr.  Smithers." 

"His  late  lord.sliii)  did  not  enjoy  good  hcaltli,  and 
had  a  great  aversion  to  society,"  ^fr.  Smithers  ex- 
plained hastily,  wliile  the  two  yonng  men  looked  with 


i8  Comrades  True. 

compassionate  admiration  on  the  lovely  girl  who  had 
been  condemned  to  such  a  dull  existence. 

"  We  will  alter  all  that  now,"  St.  Errol  said,  looking 
at  her  kindly  with  his  sparkling  hazel  eyes.  "  We 
have  led  a  dull  life,  too,  haven't  we,  Stanley  ?  You 
and  I  both  know  what  hard  work  and  dulness  means, 
don't  we  ? "' 

"  The  work  is  hard  enough,  but  it  saves  us  from  dul- 
ness," Stanley  corrected. 

The  deep  blue  eye  roved  solemnly  from  the  one  to 
the  other  face  of  the  two  last  speakers,  and  while  her 
attention  was  given  to  St.  Errol,  Stanley  had  time  to 
observe  the  willowy  grace  of  her  tall,  slender  figure,  and 
the  exquisite  flower-like  face  and  golden-haired  little 
head  that  crowned  it. 

''  Eefined  and  aristocratic  from  top  of  her  head  to 
the  tips  of  her  toes.  Wherever  his  lordship  picked 
her  up,  she's  a  lady  born  as  well  as  bred.  Poor 
girl  !  " 

"  I  have  never  been  to  a  dance  or  a  dinner,  or  had  a 
ball-dress,''  the  girl  was  telling  St.  Errol  vivaciously  ; 
and  then  the  corners  of  her  mouth  drooped  despond- 
ently as  she  added  :  "  And  now,  I  suppose,  I  never 
shall." 

"  That  you  shall ;  I'll  see  to  that." 

St.  Errol,  as  he  spoke,  tried  to  think  if  he  knew  any 
woman  who  might  possibly  take  Stella  into  society. 
There  was  his  chiefs  wife,  to  be  sure  !  She  often 
good-naturedly  tried  to  enliven  his  and  Stanley's  Sunday 
b}'^  asking  them  to  dinner  at  her  house  in  Cla^diam. 
She  was  a  good-natured  woman,  and  she  had  a 
brougham  ;  no  one  who  knew  her  could  ever  forget 
this  latter  fact.     But,  in  spite  of  the  good  nature  and 


The  Ward.  19 

the  brougham,  he  felt,  as  he  glanced  at  his  ward,  that 
his  chief's  wife  would  be  useless. 

**  1  must  talk  to  Smithers  about  it,'' he  told  hinisclf  ; 
but  he  knew  that  Smithers  would  be  useless  in  a  case 
of  this  kind.  Then  his  thoughts  wandered  back  to 
Jock — and  Dalma  !  "  ]]7iat  a  friend  she  could  be  to 
Stella,  if  only  I  can  bring  them  together  !  "  he  thought  ; 
and  he  pictured  vividly  to  himself  how,  probably  at 
this  very  hour,  Mrs.  Clifford  was  giving  Jock  some 
dinner.  "lie's  a  lucky  dog  to  be  with  her.  Dear  old 
Jock  !  he  deserves  all  the  luck  he  gets " 

**  It  is  only  necessary  that  your  lordship  and  the  two 
executors  should  be  present  at  the  reading  of  the  will. 
You  are  the  sole  relative  of  the  late  lord  present,  and — 
I  will  trouble  your  lordship  to  come  with  mc  to  the 
library.  The  formalities  will  be  quickly  got  over," 
Mr.  Smithers  was  droning  out  in  his  best  professional 
voice,  which  svas  utterly  unlike  his  society  one. 

As  they  all  rose  from  the  table  Stella's  voice  was 
heard.  They  looked  at  her.  Every  trace  of  color  had 
left  her,  Avith  the  exception  of  the  golden  hair  and  the 
deep  blue  eyes.     Even  her  lips  were  white. 

**  The  will  I  Is  the  will  to  bo  read  now  ?  Oh,  per- 
haps it  will  tell  me,  tell  every  one,  who  I  am  ! " 

She  flashed  out  of  the  room  before  any  one  could 
answer  her,  and  the  eyes  and  the  hearts  of  the  two 
young  men  followed  her. 

"  Your  ward  is  a  nice  young  lady,  hut  you'll  find  her 
a  handful,  my  lord,"  Mr.  Smithers  said  conlidentially  ; 
and  St.  Errol  asked  eagerly  : 

'*  Wlio  is  she  ?     Tell  me — you  know." 

"  I  can  tell  you  nothing  beyond  this — she  is  his  lato 
Jordship's  adopted  child,  and  your  ward." 


20  Comrades  True. 

"  You  mean  that  you  loill  tell  me  nothing  more  ?'' 

"  Your  lordship  is  right,"  said  the  lawyer.  "  I  can- 
not and  I  will  not." 

The  two  executors  appointed  by  the  late  Lord  St. 
Errol  were  a  couple  of  gentleman  farmers — yeomen,  in 
fact — who  knew  nothing  of  his  lordship  or  his  lord- 
ship's affairs  beyond  this  :  that  he  had  bought  Kose-in- 
Vale,  and  given  them  the  right  to  shoot,  course,  and 
fish  over  the  property.  They  were  rather  disposed  to 
feel  hostile  towards  his  successor  until  they  were  assured 
that  he  intended  to  still  cede  them  those  rights.  How- 
ever, they  were  genial  and  hearty  to  him  when  he 
went  into  the  library,  and  before  the  business  which 
had  brought  them  together  was  concluded,  they  pro- 
nounced him  "^  a  right  good  fellow,  with  no  nonsense 
about  him." 

While  that  business  Avas  proceeding,  Stella  took 
Stanley  for  a  stroll  through  the  gardens,  and  ho  found 
himself  wishiiig  that  the  "business"  would  last  for 
many  hours. 

Here  was  virgin  soil  indeed.  I  am  not  speaking  of 
the  gardens — all  that  art  and  culture  could  do  had  been 
done  for  them — but  the  girl  knew  as  little  of  the  world 
as  when  she  was  born  into  it.  Her  only  acquaintances 
of  her  own  sex  had  been  her  many  governesses.  Lord 
St.  Errol  had  never  retained  the  services  of  any  one  of 
them,  however  proficient,  for  more  than  twelve  months, 
and  the  only  man  she  had  ever  spoken  to  until  this 
day  beside  Lord  St.  Errol  was  Mr.  Smithcrs.  It  was  a 
wonderful  experience  for  her  to  be  walking  about  the 
gardens,  that  had  been  gilded  cages  to  her  hitherto,  with 
a  young,  handsome  fellow-creature  who  lived  in  London 
and  had  been  to  the  theaters,  of  which  she  had  only  read. 


The  Ward.  21 

"  I  know  nothing,  nothing,  nothing  of  life  beyond 
the  fact  that  I  am  living.  I  know  nothing  of  the  world 
besides  this  :  tiiat  Kose-in-Vale  is  a  lovely  place  and 
Errol  Castle  a  stately  one.  You  must  find  me  very 
dull  after  the  great  London  ladies  to  whom  you  arc 
accustomed.  I  read  about  them  in  the  World  and  the 
Queen.  Papa  took  those  papers  for  me.  But  when- 
ever I  said  I  should  like  to  wear  the  dresses  and  jewels 
described  in  them,  he  used  to  laugh,  and  say  it  was  all 
vanity." 

"  I  know  no  great  London  ladies.  You  are  the 
greatest  lady  I  ever  knew  or  ever  wish  to  know.  The 
beautiful  dresses  and  jewels  will  be  yours,  very  soon,  I 
am  sure." 

Stanley  tried  his  hardest  to  speak  in  a  grandfatherly 
way,  but  it  was  difficult  work  with  those  lovely  deep- 
blue  eyes  reading  him  so  attentively.  His  heart  was 
filled  with  pity  for  this  beautiful,  desolate  young 
creature,  who  had  no  friend  in  the  world  with  the 
exception  of  dear,  good-hearted,  attractive,  utterly 
irresponsible  St.  Errol. 

Stella  gave  him  a  grateful,  upsetting  smile. 

**  How  nice  of  you  to  say  that,  because  you  are  his 
greatest  friend  !  He  said  so  himself,  and  so  you  must 
know  what  he  intends  to  do  with  me.     Tell  me,  will 

you?" 

"  Fall  in  love  with  you,"  Stanley  would  have  said  if 
he  had  spoken  from  his  heart.  As  it  was,  he  spoko 
from  his  head,  and  said  :  *' We  must  find  a  very,  very 
delightful  elderly  lady  to  take  charge  of  you,  travel 
with  you,  aiul  teacli  you  the  ways  of  the  world,  of  which 
you  know  so  little.  When  that  is  done,  the  rest  will 
arrange  itself." 


I'l  Comrades  True. 

The  blue  eyes  lost  all  their  solemnity,  and  sparkled 
with  delight. 

''  Oh,  oh,  it's  like  a  dream — a  lovely  dream  !  I  shan't 
wake  from  it,  shall  I  ?  " 

''  jS'ot  for  a  long  time,  I  hope.  Miss  St.  Errol." 

He  was  still  grandfatherly. 

"  I  am  so  glad  yon  said,  '  We  must  find  a  delightful 
elderly  lady.'  Are  you  joint  guardian  with  Lord  St. 
Errol  ?  " 

"I  have  not  the  honor  to  be  that,"  he  said  stiffly, 
and  from  being  elderly  he  became  aged. 

"  I  don't  want  her  to  be  so  very  old,  you  know,"  the 
girl  said  musingly.  "  Most  of  my  governesses  have 
been  that.  If  they  walked  a  mile  they  got  stiff  or 
tired,  and  not  one  of  them  could  ride.  Now,  do  you 
know,  I  don't  think  much  of  any  one  who  can't 
ride  ?  " 

Miss  St.  Errol  spoke  confidentially  and  as  if  she  were 
perfectly  sure  of  his  sympathy  in  the  matter. 

With  humiliation  he  reflected  that  he  had  only  once 
been  on  a  horse,  and  the  horse  and  he  had  parted  un- 
ceremoniously. St.  Errol  had  the  advantage  of  him  in 
this  respect.  St.  Errol  had  taken  lessons  in  a  riding- 
school,  and  could  sit  a  jump.  In  response  to  her  last 
remark,  he  found  himself  saying  meanly  : 

''  It's  easy  enough  to  ride  if  you  can  afford  to  have 
the  horses." 

She  gazed  at  him  fixedly,  read  his  thoughts,  and 
knew  that  she  had  wounded  him,  and  in  a  moment 
made  amends. 

"  So  it  is.  It  shows  what  an  ignorant  goose  I  am,  to 
have  left  that  question  out  of  consideration.  Now,  will 
you  like  to  come  and  see  my  mare  and  tlie  cobs  I  drive. 


The  Ward.  23 

or  shall  we  go  in  ami  hear  if  they  have  finished  with 
that  will  busiuess  ?  " 

"  "We'll  go  to  the  stables  if  you  will  kindly  take  me," 
he  said. 

The  time  would  come,  all  too  soon,  when  he  would 
have  to  part  from  her  "  forever."  How  awful  those 
words  are  in  the  ears  of  loving  youth  !  But  he  could 
not  bring  himself  to  resign  her  to  general  society  just 
yet,  so  he  elected  to  go  to  the  stables,  though  he  Avas  as 
ignorant  of  the  manners,  customs,  points,  and  quality 
of  the  horses  as  a  Choktaw  Indian  is  of  the  habits  of 
May  fair. 

The  stables  were  well  filled  with  good  horseflesh. 
Each  one  would  have  been  a  winner  in  the  class  for 
which  it  had  been  entered  had  the  late  Lord  St.  Errol 
consented  to  show.  But  this  he  had  never  done.  He 
had  kept  his  horses  as  he  had  kept  himself  and  his 
adopted  child — apart  from  the  common  crowd. 

"These  are  my  cobs,  Gaylass  and  Gaylad,"  she  said, 
pointing  out  a  pair  of  gray  beauties  standing  in  adja- 
cent stalls.  "  And  this  is  my  mare  Guinevere,"  she 
atlded,  opening  the  door  of  a  loose-box  and  bestowing 
what  Stanley  thought  were  foolish  caresses  on  the  head 
of  a  quivering  piece  ef  chestnut  satin  who  came  to  meet 
Stella  with  a  little  neigh  of  gladness. 

''  Papa  gave  her  to  me  when  she  was  two  years  old  ; 
now  she's  five  off,  and  no  one  has  ever  ridden  her  but 
myself  ;  but  if  you  would  like  to  try  her  I'll  lend  her  to 
you,"  Stella  said  winningly. 

And  Stanley  felt  himself  to  be  a  surly  brute  as  ho 
answered  : 

'•Thanks,  but  1  don't  ride,  and  if  I  did  1  uouldn't 
ride  a  borrowed  horse." 


24  Comrades  True. 

Stella  sighed. 

"  I  meant — I  tlionglit — I  wished  you  to  try  her/'  she 
said  softly. 

Then  she  bestowed  a  parting  kiss  on  the  mare's 
nose,  and  asked  Stanley  if  he  would  like  to  see  the 
kennels. 

He  assented,  adding  that  he  was  very  fond  of  dogs. 

"  Have  you  a  dog  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  St.  Errol  has  a  dear  old  chap,  a  fox  terrier.  He  is 
the  cleverest  beastie  I  think  that  ever  lived  ;  he  really 
does  everything  but  speak." 

"Do  you  know,  Lord  St.  Errol  is  just  what  I  think 
Marmion  must  have  been  like  ?  "  she  said,  turning  with 
rapidity  from  the  subject  of  the  dog  to  that  of  the 
dog's  master. 

"  I'm  sorry  for  that,"  Stanley  said  coldly. 

"  Are  you  ?    Why  ?  " 

"  Because — pardon  me  for  saying  it — Marmion  was  a 
heartless  scoundrel." 

''No,  no,  no  !"  Stella  said,  in  quick  vindication  of 
one  of  her  many  disreputable  favorites  in  fiction  ;  "  he 
wasn't  heartless.  A  number  of  things  proved  that  he 
wasn't  that.  I've  always  felt  sorry  for  him,"  she  went 
on  pensively — ''as  sorry  as  if  he  had  been  real." 

"  I'll  admit  that  there  must  have  been  some  redeem- 
ing trait  in  him,  otherwise  you  would  not  take  an  in- 
terest in  his  character,"  Stanley  compelled  himself  to 
say  apologetically. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  Ah,  I'm  afraid  when  I  know  a  lot  of  people  I  shall 
always  like  the  bad  ones  best,"  she  said  sadly.  "You 
see,"  she  resumed,  with  a  rapid  return  to  mirth,  "my 
governesses  have  all  been  so  good  and  so  dull,  and  Mr. 


Tlic  Ward.  25 

Smithers  is  good,  I  know,  because  papa  used  to  tell  me 
what  an  excellent  man  Smithers  was  ;  but  he's  worse 
than  beiug  alone — oh,  ever  so  much  worse  !  Are  you 
good  or  excellent  ?  " 

"  I  can't  lay  claim  to  being  either.  I'm  very  inferior 
clay,  I  fear." 

"  I'm  glad  of  that,"  she  said  joyously.  "  Now  let  us 
go  to  the  dogs." 

Stanley  was  in  a  congenial  atmosphere  in  the  kennels, 
for,  as  he  had  said,  he  '-  loved  dogs,"  and,  moreover, 
in  addition  to  loving,  he  knew  something  about  them. 
The  enormous  head  and  general  burglar-like  appear- 
ance of  Stella's  pet  bulldog,  Adonis,  appealed  to  him 
strongly,  so  did  the  graceful  beauty  of  her  grayhound, 
Countess,  but  most  of  all  his  heart  went  out  to  a  grand 
St.  Bernard,  Alp,  the  king  of  the  kennels. 

'*  Do  you  think  he  will  let  me  keep  him  ?"  she  asked 
wistfully  ;  **I  am  so  fond  of  them.  Do  you  think  he 
will  let  me  keep  them  ?  " 

"  My  dear  ^liss  St.  Errol,  your  guardian  would  bo 
heart-broken  if  he  thought  you  doubted  that  for  a  mo- 
ment." 

**  I  won't  break  his  heart  about  it,  then  ;  I  will  rely 
on  him — of  course  I  will  rely  oji  him — for  whatever  you 
say  about  hiui  must  be  true.  Do  you  think  he  will 
like  me  ?  Papa  loved  me  so  much  that  1  couldn't  bear 
not  to  be  liked  by  my  guardian — ami  you." 

Stanley's  Ijlood  tingled  in  his  veins. 

"  f)f  course  he  will  like  you,"  he  said  coolly. 

"  Why  don't  you  say  '  Of  course  we  shall  like  you  ? '  " 
she  a-ski'd  impatiently  ;  then,  relapsing  into  tenderness 
she  ad<U'd  :  "  I  can't  disconnect  you  two  in  my  mind  ; 
you  are  such  friends — such  dear  friends.     I  know  that 


26  Comrades  True. 

if  yon  don't  like  me  he  won't,  and  if  yon  do  like  me  he 
will,  too.     Tell  me,  which  is  it  to  be  ?" 

"  1  like  yon,"  was  all  he  constrained  himself  to  say, 
and  in  an  instant  she  was  a  happy,  langhing  girl,  hold- 
ing a  retriever  pnpjiy  np  for  him  to  kiss. 

While  he  was  performing  this  little  act  of  obedience 
they  heard  voices  in  the  near  distance.  The  retriever 
was  dropped  so  hnrriedly  as  to  be  made  nncomfortable 
for  a  few  moments,  and  the  face  of  the  girl  who  had 
held  him  was  flooded  with  joy. 

"  He  is  coming,"  she  said  :  "  let  ns  go  and  meet  him." 

"  He  has  become  *  he  ^  to  her  already.  What  a  fool 
I  am  !"  Stanley  thonght,  bnt  he  only  said  :  "  Do  yon 
mean  Smithers  ?     I  heard  his  voice." 

''No,"  she  replied,  looking  back  at  him  over  her 
shonlder  ;  "  I  mean  Marmion  !  " 

"  This  day's  work  has  been  bad  for  me  ;  how  will  it 
be  for  St.  Errol  ?  "  Stanley  asked  himself  as  he  followed 
the  figure  of  the  sylph  who  was  flying  to  meet  St.  Errol. 
"  Why  did  I  come  down  ?  Why  don't  I  go  back  by  the 
next  train  ?     Why  am  I  an  ass  ?  " 

"Everything  is  as  right  as  rain,"  St.  Errol  said  cheer- 
fully, as  Stanley,  looking  rather  sulky,  joined  the  group, 
"  All  we  have  to  do  now  is  to  get  some  well-connected 
old  dowager  to  take  charge  of  my  ward  "—he  looked  at 
Stella,  and  his  eyes  laughed — "and  we'll  travel,  old 
chap,  as  war  correspondents,  and  that  Monte  Carlo 
novel  that  we  have  been  talking  about  for  months  shall 
be  written." 

^' What  a  thoughtless  boy  he  is!"  Stanley  thought, 
as  he  said  :  "  Yon  can  do  these  things,  bnt  I  can't." 

In  a  moment  Stella  stood  between  them,  grasping  a 
hand  of  each  one,  and  bringing  them  together. 


The  Ward.  27 

'*  "Whatever  one  of  you  does  the  other  must  do,  or  I 
shall  be  so  unhappy,"  she  said  plaintively.  "  How  can 
you  talk  of  leaving  me  with  an  old  dowager,  while  you 
travel  ?  You  said  you  liked  me  '' — she  glanced  resent- 
fully at  Stanley — *'  and  tiiat  he  would  like  me,  too. 
And  now  you  speak  of  going  away  and  leaving  me  as  I 
wouldn't  leave  a  horse  or  a  dog.  How  could  you  ? 
How  could  you  ?  I  have  never  had  a  friend — a  young 
friend — before  I  met  you  to-day,  and  I  won't  be  left 
with  au  old  frump  ;  I  won't  part  Avith  you  !  " 

"  Whatever  you  like  to  do  shall  be  done,"  St.  Errol 
said  cordially. 

''  Whatever  is  expedient  for  you  shall  be  done,"  Mr. 
Smithers  said  cautiously. 

"  I  shall  like  to  do  what  I  like  better  than  what  is 
expedient  for  me,"  Stella  laughed  out  gaily.  "■  And 
you'll  let  me  do  what  I  like,  won't  you  ?  " 

She  looked  from  St.  Errol  to  Stanley  quickly  as  she 
spoke,  but  only  St.  Ej-rol  answered  her. 

*'  Tliat  I  promise  you,"  her  judicious  young  guardian 
said  eagerly  ;  but  Stanley  said  nothing,  and  Stella  felt 
vaguely  disappointed. 

"  Xow,  tell  me  :  is  anything  said  about  who  I  am  in 
the  will  ?  "  she  asked  ;  and  her  face  fell,  and  tears  camo 
into  her  blue  eyes,  when  Mr.  Smithers  told  her. 

"Nothing  beyond  this,  that  you  are  spoken  of  as  his 
late  lordship's  adopted  child,  tluit  he  leaves  you  four 
hundred  a  year,  and  ciiargcs  his  successor  Avith  tlio 
guardianship  of  you  until  you  marry." 

**  Fancy  me  married  !  "  she  laughed  out.  "  Wouldn't 
it  be  funny  ?" 

Stanley  seemed  about  to  say  something,  but  ho 
checked  himself  ;  while  St.  Errol  told  her  she  "  must 


28  Comrades  True. 

choose  a  right  good  fellow,  for  she  would  have  plenty 
to  choose  from." 

"  What  shall  we  do  to-morrow  ?  "  she  questioned. 
Her  busy  brain  was  always  at  work  making  plans. 
*'  Shall  we  go  for  a  long  drive  with  my  cobs  ?  " 

''  We  must  go  back  to  town  to-morrow,"  St.  Errol 
told  her. 

'^  Then  I'll  go  with  you.  I  won't  be  left  alone  here  ! 
It  would  be  worse  than  ever,  now  I  know  you  two." 

''  My  dear  girl,  you  can't,"  her  guardian  said  earnest- 
ly.    '^  We  have  nowhere  to  take  you." 

*'  If  I  may  be  permitted  to  make  a  suggestion,"  Mr. 
Smithers  said,  "  I  can  answer  for  Mrs.  Smithers  that 
she  would  be  delighted  to  have  Miss  St.  Errol  as  a 
guest  until  such  time  as  a  suitable  chaperon  for  her  can 
be  found." 

"■  A  capital  idea  !  "  said  St.  Errol. 

*'  A  lovely  one  ! "  said  Stella,  in  an  ecstasy  of  de- 
light ;  and  she  looked  at  Stanley,  who  still  kept  silence. 
*^  Why  won't  you  say  you're  glad  ?  Just  now  you  said 
you  liked  me,  and  now  you're  not  a  bit  glad  that  I  am 
going  up  with  you." 

The  young  flirt  knew  her  power,  and  already  loved  to 
exert  it. 

"  If  you  are  glad  to  go,  I  am,  of  course,  glad  you  are 
going,"  Stanley  forced  himself  to  say. 

"  But  you  are  not  glad  for  yourself  that  I  am  going  ?  " 
she  persisted.  "  That's  very,  very  unkind  of  you. 
You  are  pleased,  are  you  not  ?  " 

She  laid  a  slim  white  hand  on  St.  Errol's  arm  as  she 
spoke,  and  a  pang  of  bitter  envy  shot  through  Stanley's 
heart. 

"  Glad,  rather  !     You'll  find  me  a  very  stern  guardian. 


The  Ward.  29 

when  I  get  you  up  to  town.     As  Robert  Brough  wrote 
ill  a  charming  little  poem  called  'Neighbor  Nellie': 

"  A  suspicious  cankered  churl, 
I  look  vainly  for  the  setting  to  be  worthy  such  a  pearl." 

"  I  know  '  Neighbor  Nellie ' ;  they  are  a  lovely  little 
set  of  verses.  But  I  won't  let  you  be  stern  to  me  about 
onything.'^ 

St.  Errol  laughed  at  the  idea  of  any  one  "being  stern 
to  such  a  dainty  bit  of  humanity,"  and  his  words  gave 
Stella  an  opportunity  of  having  another  little  thrust  at 
Stanley. 

'*  You  could  be  very  stern  with  me,  couldn't  you  ?" 
she  asked  innocently. 

"  I  don't  know.  If  you  ever  deserved  sternness  I 
should  be  stern,"  he  said  curtly. 

**  Ah,  you  might  try  to  be,  but  you  wouldn't  keep  it 
up  long,  for  I  should  be  good,  and  do  whatever  you 
wanted  directly." 

"In  fact,  you  would  try  to  cajole  me." 

For  tlie  life  he  could  not  help  speaking  in  grim  se- 
riousness, instead  of  treating  the  topic  jestingly,  as  the 
others  were  doing. 

"  I  must  go  and  tell  my  maid  to  begin  packing  all 
my  things  at  once.  Poor  thing  !  she  will  be  as  glad  to 
go  to  London  as  I  am.  She  has  had  a  hard  time  of  it 
here,"  she  added,  shaking  the  small,  Avell-shai)ed  head, 
round  whicli  tlie  undulating  golden  hair  was  closely 
bound.  "  The  butler  wanted  to  marry  her,  and  the  foot- 
man wanted  to  marry  Iht  ;  and  lus  she  couldn't  marry 
l)oth,  slie  wouldn't  marry  either,  for  fear  they  shoiiM 
figlit.     Then  they  got   disagreeable  to  her,  though  she 


30  Comrades  True. 

had  done  it  all  out  of  kindness.  Wasn't  it  nasty  of 
them  y  " 

''  Very,"  all  three  men  assented  ;  and  then  the  young 
beauty  told  them  they  "must  do  without  her  until 
eight  o'clock,  when  they  would  meet  at  dinner." 

"  I  shall  have  tea  in  my  own  room.  I'm  sure  you 
none  of  you  care  for  tea  ?  Papa  didn't.  He  used  to 
have  what  he  called  "a  peg  "  instead.  Ate  revoir  ;  "  and 
she  was  ofE  before  they  could  answer  her. 

*'  Your  ward  is  a  very  interesting  but  rather  erratic 
young  lady,"  Mr.  Smithers  said,  as  she  disappeared. 

"  I  am  very  proud  of  her  already,"  St.  Errol  answered ; 
''  and  I'm  more  than  grateful  to  you  for  helping  me 
out  of  a  difficulty,  and  offering  her  a  home  in  your 
house  until  Ave  can  find  a  suitable  chaperon  for 
her.  We  couldn't  have  left  her  here,  could  we, 
Stanley  ?  " 

"You  couldn't,  but  I,  being  in  no  way  responsible 
for  her,  could." 

"  She  ought  to  make  a  splendid  marriage  if  she  is 
well  brought  out,"  Mr.  Smithers  said.  "  If  she  could 
be  presented  at  one  of  the  later  Drawing-rooms,  she 
would  make  a  sensation." 

"  Who's  to  present  her  ?  I  don't  know  any  swells," 
St.  Errol  said  hopefully. 

"You'll  know  any  number  of  them  very  soon,  my 
lord.  Meantime,  I  will  try  to  work  something  for  her 
through  some  of  my  titled  clients,"  Mr.  Smithers  prom- 
ised. 

"  All  right.  Now,  Stanley,  come  and  have  a  pipe 
and  a  chat  over  the  next  chapter  of  '  Dalma.'  " 

"  '  Dalma'  has  not  been  effaced  from  your  mind  yet, 
then  ?  " 


The  Ward.  31 

"She  never  will  bo,"  St.  Errol  declared  euthusias- 
ticully. 

'*  I  was  speaking  of  the  book,  not  the  woman,"  Stan- 
ley said  contemptuonsly. 

"  And  I  wa3  thinking  of  both,"  said  St.  Errol 
blithely. 

The  jonrncy  np  to  town  was  a  lively  and  pleasant 
one  for  them  all.  Stella  divided  her  attentions — her 
flashes  of  mirth,  her  moments  of  sadness,  her  ever-vary- 
ing moods — equally  between  the  two  men.  All  went 
well  until  they  reached  the  London  terminus,  when 
Stella  flashed  out  a  statement  of  intention  that  stag- 
gered all  three  men,  and  made  them  profoundly  uncom- 
fortable. She  was  already  proving  herself  *'  tlie  hand- 
ful "  ^Ir.  Smithers  had  prophesied  that  her  guardian 
would  find  her. 


CHAPTER  III. 

MISS   ST.    EEROL'S   whim. 

Stella  was  standing  on  the  platform  between  St. 
Errol  and  Stanley,  and  surrounded  by  her  maid  and 
her  luggage,  while  Mr.  Smithers  was  looking  for  his 
brougham,  which  had  been  sent  to  meet  his  fair  young 
guest  and  himself,  Avhen  the  young  lady  in  question 
gave  them  her  prearranged  shock. 

"  Before  I  go  to  Mrs.  Smithers,"  she  said  sweetly, 
"  I  mean  to  go  with  you  two  to  your  lodgings.  I  want 
to  see  Jock." 

"My  dear  young  lady,  impossible!"  Mr.  Smithers 
protested.  "  I  have  an  important  engagement  which 
I  cannot  on  any  account  miss,  so  I  cannot  take  you  to 
— to — a — see  Jock." 

''You  needn't  come.  I  can  go  with  them,"  she  said, 
airily  waving  her  hand  towards  the  two  young  men. 

"  You  canH  come,  really,"  St.  Errol  pleaded. 

"You  shall  not  come,"  Stanley  said,  more  firmly. 

"Now  you're  stern,"  she  said  coaxingly.  "Oh, 
please  don't  be  stern  about  such  a  little  thing." 

"I  can't  take  you  there,  I  tell  you,"  Mr.  Smithers 
said  irritably. 

Ilis  time  was  of  immense  vahie  to  himself  and  an  ex- 
travagant wife.     He  could  not  waste  it  on  the  whim 
of  a  spoilt  child. 
32 


Miss  St.  Errol's  Whim.  33 

"  I  sliall  go  with  them.  I  tloii't  w;int  you,  but  I  mctiu 
to  go  ;  and  if  !Mr.  Stanley  looks  cross,  I'll  go  with  my 
guardian  alone.  But  go  I  will.  You  ean  take  my 
maid  and  the  luggage,"  she  continued  aiTably  to  ^Ir. 
Smithers,  "and  they  will  bring  me  to  your  house  when 
I've  seen  their  lodgings  and  Jock." 

"Byfheyl  presume  3'ou  mean  your  guardian  and 
Mr.  Stanley?" 

She  nodded  a  bright  assent. 

**  Lord  St.  Errol  has  already  told  you  that  ho  will  not 
take  you.  You  are  merely  wasting  time,"  Mr.  Smithers 
said,  more  irritably  still. 

Stella  turned  to  Lord  St.  Errol  with  tears  in  her 
eyes. 

**  Don't  be  unkind  to  me,"  she  pleaded  ;  '*  if  you 
are,  I  sliall  feel  that  I  haven't  a  friend  in  the  world." 

Lord  St.   Errol  visibly  wavered. 

"  Wasting  time  in  this  way  is  ridiculous,  simply  al)- 
snrd  I  "  Mr.  Smithers  grutnbled.  ''  I  nuist  be  off. 
Delay  in  my  case  to-day  is  destructive  both  to  my 
clients  and  myself." 

"Go — do  go,  then,"  Stella  said,  more  sweetly  than 
ever.  Then  she  told  her  maid  to  "  unpack  and  have 
everything  ready  for  me  when  I  get  to  'Mrs.  Smithers." 
"  I  suppose  I  can  be  there  in  an  hour  ?  "  she  added  to 
Mr.  Smithers. 

lie  grunted  an  aflfirmative. 

"That's  right.  Xow  come  on,"  she  said  brightly, 
laying  her  hand  on  St,  Errol's  arm  as  she  spoke. 

Stanley  felt  a  sharp  twinge  of  pain  as  she  did  so. 
He  remembered  that  only  the  day  before  she  had  used 
exactly  the  same  gesture  towards  himself. 

"  If  you  will  you  will,  I  suppose,"  St.  Errol  said  good- 
3 


34  Comrades  True. 

temperedly,  aiid  forthwith  ordered  a  cab.  ''We  must 
make  the  best  of  it,  Stanley  ;  come  on/'  he  said,  with 
a  deprecating  laugh. 

"  You  are  weak,"  Stanley  muttered. 

Nevertheless,  he  followed  the  wilful  beauty  and  her 
weak  guardian  into  a  cab. 

"  This  is  nice  and  comfortable,"  Stella  said,  as  she 
snuggled  into  a  corner.  "  None  of  my  governesses  ever 
let  me  do  as  I  liked  except  one,  and  papa  sent  her 
away  the  day  after  she  came.  She  was  a  dear  !  What 
a  lovely  place  London  is  !  " 

As  they  were  driving  through  some  of  the  by-streets 
that  lead  from  Charing  Cross  Station  to  Oxford  Street 
as  she  spoke,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  tenderly- 
cherished  and  luxuriously-brought-up  Stella  was  easily 
pleased. 

They  soon  came  to  the  very  unpretentious  lodgings 
in  which  the  hard-working  Admiralty  clerks  had  spent 
so  many  happy  days,  days  that  were  over  now  for  both 
of  them  in  widely  different  ways.  The  door  was  opened 
with  the  latch-key  in  an  instant,  Stella  was  in  the  pas- 
sage in  another,  and  as  the  two  young  men  entered 
they  stood  aghast  at  the  spectacle  of  Mrs.  Clifford  with 
Jock  in  her  arms,  and  Stella  with  her  arms  round  Mrs. 
Clifford's  neck. 

''I  would  come,"  Stella  began,  before  any  one  else 
could  speak.  ' '  I  wanted  to  see  Jock.  I  didn't  know 
you  were  here  ;  they  didn't  tell  me  that.  I'm  glad  I 
came — I'm  so  glad.  I  would  come.  Tell  me  every- 
thing about  yourself.     Aren't  you  glad  to  see  me  ?  " 

Mrs.  Clifford  had  dropped  Jock,  who  was  divided 
between  his  joy  at  seeing  his  master  back  and  his 
annoyance  at  being  dropped  by  any  one.     It  seemed  to 


Miss  St.  Errol's  Whim.  35 

the  two  men  that  it  was  with  almost  a  motlierly  tender- 
ness that  she  drew  Stella  towards  her  and  kissed  lier 
warmly. 

"Dear  Stella,  I  little  thought  I  should  ever  see  you 
again.  Glad  to  see  von  ?  Of  course  I  am  I  Who  that 
has  ever  seen  you  once  would  not  bo  glad  to  see  you 
again  ?  But  what  brought  yon  here  if  it  was  not  to 
see  me  ?  " 

"My  own  will  and  a  cab."  Stella  spoke  as  if  there 
was  something  very  laudable  in  having  exerted  the 
former.  "  You  must  live  with  me  now.  AVhen  j^apa 
sent  you  away  I  had  a  quarrel  with  him.  We  had 
never  quarreled  before,  but  when  he  sent  you  away  I 
was  in  a  fury." 

"  I  quite  believe  it,"  Stanley  said  quietly. 

She  flashed  a  sunny  smile  at  him. 

"  HadnH  you  ladies  better  come  into  onr  digs  ? 
Miss  St.  Errol  wished  to  see  Jock,"  ho  explained  to 
Mrs.  Clifford. 

And  St.  Errol,  who  was  only  glad  to  have  a  chance 
of  getting  another  word  with  Mrs.  Clilford  under  any 
circumstances,  warmly  seconded  the  invitation. 

Jock  was  introduced  to  his  fair  visitor  by  Stanlcv, 
and  while  the  tliree  were  engaged  in  an  animated 
verbal  fight  at  close  quarters  as  to  the  merits  and  de- 
merits of  various  breeds  of  dogs,  St.  Errol  seized  tho 
opportunity  of  getting  a  few  words  with  the  woman 
who  had  been  constantly  in  his  thoughts  since  lirst  ho 
saw  her  throe  days  ago. 

"  It  is  delightful  to  me  that  you  should  already  know 
the  home  that  is  mine  now,"  he  began. 

Tier  lovely  crcamy-complexioned  face  flushed  ever  so 
slightly. 


36  Comrades  True. 

''I  thank  yon  so  mncli."  She  raised  the  sweetest 
eyes  that  were  ever  seen  to  his  as  she  spoke — eyes  that 
perplexed  the  cleverest  colorists  to  define  whether  they 
were  gray,  or  bine,  or  purple,  for  tliey  changed  their 
tints  with  each  change  in  her  sensitive  nature.  "  Yon 
must  remember,"  she  went  on,  "  that  mine  was  not  a 
pleasant  visit  to  Rose-in-Vale.  The  place  is  lovely, 
but  the  only  happy  association  I  have  with  it  is  that 
dear  girl  over  there,  who  risked  the  favor  of  the  late 
Lord  St.  Errol  by  fighting  for  me." 

All  the  bright,  boyish  carelessness  fled  from  his 
handsome  face  as  he  listened,  and  it  was  a  strong, 
determined  man  who  replied  : 

*'  Trust  me  to  repair  the  wrong  done  to  you  by  my 
boorish  predecessor." 

"  He  was  not  '  boorish  ; '  that's  the  odd  part  of  it. 
He  must  have  hated  me  for  some  reason  to  account 
both  for  his  action  and  his  words." 

"  You  shall  carry  away  happier  memories  of  your 
next  visit  to  Eose-in-Vale  ;  I  will  see  to  that." 

"  I  always  knew  he  was  a  dear  boy,"  she  thought  ; 
then  her  eyes  clouded  to  their  deepest  hue  as  she  re- 
membered the  disparity  in  their  positions,  and  the  im- 
possibility of  this  ''  dear  boy  "  ever  being  more  to  her 
than  he  was  to-day.  "  Stella  is  beyond  the  age  to  re- 
quire a  governess  now,"  she  said. 

''  But  not  beyond  the  age  to  require  a  friend,  and 
you  will  be  that  friend  to  her,  won't  you  ?  You  will 
see  her  often,  constantly,  won't  you  ?  " 

Again  he  was  the  eager,  impassioned  boy,  pleading 
for  a  favor  from  the  Avoman  who  was  the  first  to  stir 
his  heart's  depths.  Yes,  come  what  may,  Mrs.  Clifford 
was  St.  Errol's  first  love. 


Miss  St.  EiTol's  Whim.  37 

She  shook  her  head,  and  tried  to  meet  his  ardent 
gaze  steadily  as  she  answered  : 

"  Often,  I  hope.  But  I  am  a  worker — you  little 
know  how  hard  a  one — and  she  is,  or  will  be,  a  great 
lady.  You  only  know  nie  as  '  Mrs.  Clifford/  but  I 
am  also " 

'*  Dalnia,"'  he  interrupted. 

**  How  do  you  know  it  ?" 

"  I  heard  you  sing  once  at  the  Imjierlal  Institute, 
then  I  saw  you  here  three  days  ago — do  you  remember  ? 
— and  going  in  the  train  the  day  before  yesterday  I  put 
the  two  together,  and  it  was  you." 

Meanwhile  Jock  had  proved  a  very  engrossing  theme. 
He  sat  on  Stella's  lap,  and  alternately  offered  a  friendly 
paw  to  her  and  to  Stanley.  Miss  St.  Errol  made  Jock 
sit  up  and  "  beg  Mr.  Stanley's  pardon  for  her  having 
come  there  without  leave."  "When  that  little  perform- 
ance had  been  gone  through,  Stanley  dragged  himself 
out  of  his  fool's  paradise  and  recalled  his  sense  of 
right. 

"  St.  Errol,"  he  called  out,  "  you  must  remember  how 
anxious  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smithers  must  be  about  Miss  St. 
Errol  ;  we  must  take  her  home  at  once." 

"Oh,  there's  no  hurry,"  St.  Errol  was  beginning, 
when  Mrs.  Clifford  rose  up,  and  with  the  words,  "I 
have  a  lesson  to  take  ;  I  must  not  keep  my  master  wait- 
ing," took  leave  of  them  all. 

**  I  shall  come  again  to-morrow  ;  I  won't  leave  you 
again,"  Stella  cried  out  after  her. 

And  Stanley  felt  that  Mrs.  Clifford  was  a  woman 
more  to  be  envied  than  a  royal  Princess,  wiiile  St.  Errol 
blessed  his  ward  for  j)roposing  to  becomea  link  l)etween 
himself  and  the  woman  who  so  thrilled  him. 


38  Comrades  True. 

"  Now  say  that  you're  glad  I  would  come,"  Stella 
said  to  her  guardian  as  they  drove  towards  the  Bays- 
water  square  in  v/liich  Mr.  Smithers' house  was  situated. 
"  If  I  hadn't  gone  I  should  never  have  met  Mrs.  Clifford 
again." 

*'  I  am  glad  you  came,  Stella.  Mrs.  Clifford  is  just 
the  sort  of  woman  I  should  like  yon  to  be  very  intimate 
with/'  St,  Errol  said  so  eagerly  that  Stanley  put  in  : 

^' You  know  such  a  lot  about  her,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  At  any  rate,  /know  a  lot  about  her,"  Stella  put  in 
hotly.  "  She  told  me  all  about  herself  the  few  hours 
she  was  at  Eose-in-Vale." 

Stanley  regretted  having  si^oken. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MRS.      S  JI  I  T  II  E  R  S. 

"  Here  wc  arc  at  Smitliers'/"  Lord  St.  Errol  said,  as 
the  cab  drew  np  at  tlie  door  of  a  large  house  in  a  large 
square  in  Bayswater. 

*'  I  believe  you're  afraid  to  go  iu,"  Stella  said  glee- 
fully. 

*'  I  am,  because  !Mrs.  Smithers  may  be  a  bit  annoyed 
with  yon,"  St.  Errol  replied. 

"  That  won't  matter  in  the  least  now  that  I  have  seen 
dear  Mrs.  Clifford.     I  can  go  to  her  when  I  like." 

"  My  dear  child,  you  can't  be  running  about  by  your- 
self in  London,"  her  guardian  said  seriously. 

"  Very  well,  then,  stay  and  rnn  about  with  me.  That 
would  be  ever  so  much  nicer." 

"  Deuce  of  a  time  they  are  opening  the  door,"  Stanley 
put  in  sulkily. 

He  was  vaguely  annoyed  at  the  turn  the  conversation 
was  taking,  and  so  vented  his  displeasure  on  the  uncon- 
scious Smithers. 

At  that  moment  the  door  was  opened  by  a  butler  of 
irroproa(hal)le  manners  and  appearance,  while  an  equally 
irreproachable  footman  came  to  open  the  cab  door.  In 
a  minute  Lord  St.  Errol  and  his  ward  were  entering  a 
fine,  lofty  drawing-ro(jiii  that  spelt  "Maple's   latest" 

39 


40  Comrades  True. 

from  carpet  to  ceiling,  and  a  fine,  lofty  dame  was  ad- 
vancing to  meet  them. 

"You  must  pardon "St.  Errol  was  beginning, 

but  she  held  up  a  plump,  well-ringed  hand  and  stopped 
him. 

"  There  is  nothing  to  pardon.  Lord  St.  Errol.  Mr. 
Smithers  made  an  absurd  fuss  about  nothing.  I  am 
delighted  to  see  you,  Miss  St.  Errol,  and  I  hope  you 
will  have  nothing  but  good  words  to  say  of  me  when 
your  guardian  takes  you  from  under  my  charge.  I  am 
delighted  to  see  you." 

And  so,  in  truth,  she  was,  for  independently  of  her 
desire  to  mix  on  terms  of  social  equality  with  her  hus- 
band's aristocratic  clients,  she  really  took  pleasure  in 
having  young  and  pretty  girls  about  her.  And  Stella 
was  a  lovely  one. 

She  was  a  large-featured,  good-looking  woman  of  the 
robust  order.  Her  eyes  and  hair  were  nut-brown,  the 
former  a  trifle  hard  and  defiant,  the  latter  beautifully 
done.  If  her  throat  had  been  longer,  her  figure  less 
coarsely  developed,  and  the  costume  she  wore  over  it 
not  quite  so  tight,  she  would  have  been  a  handsome 
one.  As  it  was,  "she  looks  good-natured,"  Stella 
thought,  and  determined  to  make  that  good  nature 
subservient  to  her  own  sweet  will. 

"  Have  you  lunched  ?  "  Mrs.  Smithers  inquired  pres- 
ently. "  I  know  you  left  Rose-in- Vale  quite  early  ;  let 
me  offer " 

"I  couldn't  touch  anything,"  Stella  interrupted  ve- 
hemently. "I  want  to  go  for  a  drive  to  see  the  parks 
and  shops." 

"  And  I  must  say  good  morning,  Mrs.  Smithers. 
Good-by  for  to-day,  Stella  ;  don't  give  so  much  trouble 


Mrs.  Smithers.  41 

as  to  oblige  ^Irs.  Sniithers  to  sciul  for  mc  to  scokl 
you." 

"  I  shall  be  over  at  yonr  lodgings  to-morrow  to  see 
Mrs.  Clifford,"  she  replied. 

And  as  he  went  away  laughing  and  saying,  "  Xo,  no, 
Stella  !  "  she  gave  him  a  parting  shot  : 

*' Yes,  I  shall,   Marmion." 

"What  does  she  mean  by  that?"  St.  Errol  asked 
himself,  and  when  he  rejoined  Stanley  he  repeated  the 
question  to   his  friend. 

"  I  don't  know  ;  the  girl  i.s  full  of  fancies.  She  in- 
formed me  that  ^Farmion  was  one  of  her  favorite 
heroes  in  fiction,  and  that  you  were  like  him.  I  said 
I  was  sorry  for  you.  What  are  yon  going  to  do  to- 
night ?  " 

"We'll  dine  at  Prince's  first,  and  then  go  and  hear 
Dalma  sing." 

*'  You're  getting  on.     When  shall  you  leave  town  ?  " 

"  At  the  end  of  the  season.  I  have  to  look  out  for 
Stella,  you  must  remember." 

"  I  don't  forget,  but  you  have  other  duties  and  re- 
sponsibilities." 

"  You  must  admit  that  Stella  is  the  first  of  these — at 
present." 

"  So  I  suppose  it  will  be  Stella  in  the  morning  and 
Dalma  in  the  evening  ?  "  Stanley  said,  with  a  touch  of 
jealousy. 

"And  you  always,  old  boy,"  St.  Errol  rejoined 
heartily. 

"  What  is  Mrs.  Smilhcrs  like  ?  "  Stanley  asked,  more 
from  a  desire  to  turn  the  conversation  than  from  any 
thirst  for  information  on  the  subject  of  that  lady. 

"  Loud,  good-looking,  vain,  and  a  little  bit  vulgar — ■ 


42  Comrades  True. 

the  sort  of  woman  who  makes  yon  feel  she  is  thinking 
*rm  as  good  as  any  one'  all  the  time." 

''Then,  St.  Errol,  your  ward,  who  is  the  essence  of 
refinement  and  caprice,  won't  have  a  very  happy  time 
with  her." 

*'  Oh,  she'll  be  all  right.  Mrs.  Smithers  is  good- 
natnred,  I  am  sure  of  that,  and  Stella  will  take  charge 
in  no  time." 

''As  she  has  done  of  you  already,"  Stanely  said  dryly. 

St.  Errol  looked  up  quickly  and  laughed,  then  shook 
his  head,  and  said  : 

"  She  might  have  done  so  four  days  ago,  my  friend, 
but  not  now." 

Stanley  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  the  subject 
dropped. 

Dalma  sang  that  night  at  one  of  the  smaller  concert- 
halls,  but  it  was  a  good  place  for  sound,  and  as  soon  as  she 
came  on  she  resolved  to  outdo  all  her  former  triumphs. 
She  did  not  see  our  two  friends,  who  were  nearly  in 
front-seats.  But  notwithstanding  this,  she  felt  as  soon 
as  she  stepped  on  the  platform  that  they  were  in  the 
house.  Her  heart  was  beating  almost  audibly.  The 
whole  of  her  lovely  frame  was  trembling  with  an  emo- 
tion she  had  never  felt  before.  But  for  all  that  there 
was  not  a  tremor  in  the  splendid  voice  as  it  rang  out  in 
the  opening  bars  of  "Mia  Piccarella." 

St.  Errol  was  not  a  musical  man.  Hitherto  concerts 
had  bored  him  ;  but  now  his  heart  told  him  that  the 
woman  he  loved  was  singing  this  delicious  love-song 
most  divinely.  At  its  conclusion  his  reason  seconded 
his  heart,  for  Dalma  was  encored  to  the  echo,  and 
amidst  the  thunders  of  applause  she  heard  his  voice 
distinctly. 


Mrs.  Smitlicrs.  43 

She  would  not  take  her  enooro,  nor  would  she  look  at 
St.  Errol.  But  he  knew  that  she  was  conscious  of  his 
presence,  and  that  knowledge  satisfied  him.  The  rest 
of  the  concert  was  a  dreary  waste  of  time  to  iiim.  lie 
heard  nothing.  He  wondered  how  any  one  could  have 
the  patience  to  sit  there  and  listen  to  any  one  else  hut 
Dahna.  AVhen  she  came  on  again  in  her  white  satin 
dress  covered  with  a  thick  network  of  jet,  he  felt  jeal- 
ous that  any  other  eyes  than  his  own  should  hehold  her. 
Then  immediately  a  magnificent  houquet  of  white 
orchids,  lilies  of  the  valley,  and  maidenhair  was  handed 
to  her  by  the  leader  of  the  orchestra  ;  and  though  she 
would  not  look  at  him,  St.  Errol  felt  that  she  knew  it 
was  his  gift,  his  tribute. 

This  time  it  was  an  English  song.  A  week  ago  he 
would  have  pronounced  the  words  to  be  "  the  merest 
piffle."  This  night,  when  that  brilliant  voice  of  hers 
rang  out  the  invitation  ''  Come  out,  come  out,  my  dear- 
est dear,"  he  felt  for  the  first  time  the  beauty  of  the 
English  language  and  of  melody. 

Again  she  would  not  take  her  encore,  but  contented 
herself  M'ith  a  sweeping  bow  and  smile  to  the  general 
public.  As  she  turned  to  leave  the  platform  her  eyes 
met  those  of  St.   Krrol,  and  slie  smiled  at  him. 

A  man  seated  next  to  him  had  l)cen  taking  notes  all 
the  evening,  and  exclaimed  to  his  companion  : 

"  You  see  !  she  smiled  at  sc^nie  one  in  the  audience  ! 
Never  knew  Dalma  do  that  liefore." 

"Who  is  she  ?"  his  friend  asked. 

*'  Don't  know,  \ooue  knows  but  her  agent,  :\m\  he 
won't  tell." 

"  The  mystery's  put  on  to  iii(i<'as(!  the  interest,  prob- 
ably/" the  Bocoud  speaker  said  contemptuously. 


44  Comrades  True. 

"  My  dear  fellow,  you  know  nothing  abont  it.  She's 
much  too  trne  an  artist,  with  much  too  fine  a  voice,  to 
do  anything  tricky." 

^'  Let  us  go  round  to  the  artists'  room  and  offer 
to  escort  her  home,"  St.  Errol  whispered  to  Stan- 
ley. 

"  You'll  only  court  a  rebuff  if  you  go,"  Stanley  re- 
plied. 

However,  as  St.  Errol  would  go,  Stanley  went  with 
him. 

St.  Errol  sent  in  his  card,  which  was  promptly  re- 
turned to  him. 

"Madame  Dalma  had  left  five  minutes  ago,"  he  was 
told. 

His  face  bore  an  expression  of  disappointment,  and 
Stanley's  one  of  supreme  satisfaction  at  his  forecast 
having  turned  out  to  be  correct.  This  brief  little  scene 
was  witnessed  by  two  people  who  were  kept  close  to  the 
comrades  true  by  the  pressure  of  the  crowd.  When 
St.  Errol  and  Stanley  moved  on,  one  of  these  people 
said  to  her  companion  : 

''  Did  you  hear  that  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  the  man  replied  curtly. 

"  Evidently  that  young  fellow  knows  her,  and  had 
sent  in  his  card  to  ask  to  see  her." 

"  I  should  say  just  the  reverse.  Evidently  that  young 
fellow  doesn't  know  her,  or  he  wouldn't  have  sent  in  his 
card  to  Madame  Dalma." 

"  How  cross  you  are  to-night !  You  always  are  when 
you've  been  to  hear  that  woman  sing.  For  my  part,  I 
think  nothing  of  her  voice,  and  less  of  her  looks.  I 
wonder  how " 

*'  Don't  speculate  about  things  of  which  you  are  ab- 


Mrs.  Smithers.  45 

solately  i^orant,  Vixen.  Come  aud  have  au  oyster 
supper  ;  that's  more  iu  your  line." 

''  And  tliis  is  all  I  get  for "  the  woman  was  be- 
ginning passionately,  when  he  interrupted  her  with  a 
jeering  laugii. 

"Aren't  oysters  enongh  ?  All  riglit,  then,  you  shall 
have  champagne  with  them.  Only,  for  heaven's  sake, 
don't  talk  about  people  and  things  about  which  you 
have  no  more  understanding  than  the  beasts  that 
perish." 

"  After  that,  I  won't  have  any  supper  at  all.  I'll  go 
home." 

**  All  right,  go.  I  shall  enjoy  my  oysters  in  peace  if 
you  do.'' 

But  she  did  not  go  home.  iShe  shared  his  supper 
after  all. 


CHAPTEE  V. 

A    DECIDED    STEP. 

When"  Mrs.  Clifford  reached  home  that  night  her 
first  action — as  it  is  that  of  all  dainty  and  impecunious 
artists — was  to  rid  herself  of  the  exquisite  dress  which 
had  cost  her  the  fees  of  three  or  four  engagements. 

"  It  is  an  absolute  necessity  that  you  dress  well  on 
the  concert-boards.  Your  public  pays  to  see  you  look 
well  the  same  as  to  hear  you  sing  well/'  her  agent  had 
said  to  her  at  starting.  ' '  But  I  need  have  no  fear 
of  you  on  that  point,  any  more  than  I  have  of  your  ex- 
quisite and  splendidly-trained  voice  ultimately  placing 
you  in  the  first  flight.  However,  you  must  remember, 
Madame  Dalma — you  must  remember  that  there  are 
literally  thousands  fighting  for  the  same  goal.  But  you 
are  a  true  artist,  and  will  understand  this." 

Mrs.  Clifford  remembered  these  words  as  she  sat  at  sup- 
per that  night,  and  looked  at  the  glittering  robe  which 
was  reclining  at  full  length  on  a  sofa  previous  to  being 
delicately  gone  over  with  a  dress-brush,  and  then  put 
away  in  its  silver  paper  wrappers. 

She  was  eating  supper,  because  a  singer  to  live  must 
eat.  The  voice  has  to  be  fed,  whether  or  not  the  indi- 
vidual that  owns  that  voice  seems  to  require  food  or 
46 


A  Decided  Step.  47 

not.  So  she  was  eating  a  substantial  supper  tlio  while 
she  was  making  sad  plans  for  the  future. 

As  soon  as  she  had  got  herself  into  herdressiug-gown 
— even  before  she  had  commenced  that  essential  supper 
— she  had  denuded  the  bouquet  of  its  magnificent  white 
satin  streamers,  and  put  the  flowers  themselves  in  an 
immense  vase  of  water.  Her  eyes  wandered  to  them 
tenderly  every  now  and  again. 

''  "What  a  dear  boy  he  is  !  "  she  said,  half  aloud.  "  I 
wish  I  had  never  crossed  his  path,  but  I  will  never  see 
liim  again,  and — I  hope  lic'll  soon  forget  me." 

By-aud-by  she  commenced  packing  vigorously,  and 
by  the  time  she  had  concluded  the  work  the  rooms, 
which  had  been  like  gems  in  the  sordid  setting  of  that 
lodging-house,  had  resumed  their  normal  aspect.  Tlicn 
she  went  to  bed  and  slept,  in  spite  of  the  turmoil  of  her 
spirit. 

When  Mrs.  Bingham  brought  the  coffee  in  tlie  morn- 
ing, followed  by  Jock,  Mrs.  Clifford's  heart  was  full  to 
breaking.  But  she  was  not  the  kind  of  woman  to  cry 
before  the  landlady,  as  she  would  without  doubt  have 
cried  before  the  dog  had  ho  been  alone  with  her.  So 
Jock  received  the  usual  patting  and  buttered  roll. 
While  he  was  eating  the  latter,  Mrs.  Bingham's  amaze- 
ment and  indignation  found  vent  in  words  : 

*'  You've  been  packing  up,  ma'am.  Don't  tell  me  ;  I 
can  see  it  with  my  own  eyes.  A  nice  name  my  house 
will  have,  his  lordship  going,  and  you  going,  too,  as  if 
something  had  happened  that  made  yo  think  the  house 
unfit  to  live  in." 

Miserable  as  she  was,  ^Irs.  Clifford  could  not  sup- 
press a  smile  at  the  human  selllshness  which  could  con- 
sider no  other  interests  than  its  own. 


48  Comrades  True. 

"  Lord  St.  Errol  could  hardly  go  on  living  in  your 
lodgings  when  he  has  large  country  places  to  look  after. 
As  for  me,  I  told  you  when  I  came  that  I  might  be 
obliged  to  leave  any  day,  and  you  agreed  to  take  a 
week's  rent  when  I  went.  Now  I  offer  you  a  month's 
rent  if  you  promise  me  that  you  will  not  tell  any  one — 
any  one — that  I  am  going.     Will  you  ?  " 

Mrs.  Bingham  promised. 

'^  I  shall  want  a  cab  by-and-by,"  Mrs.  Clifford  said. 
''  When  I  want  it  I  will  ring." 

After  the  manner  of  many  of  us,  Mrs,  Bingham  kept 
her  promise  to  the  letter — but  not  to  the  spirit.  When 
she  took  in  breakfast  for  her  two  gentlemen  lodgers, 
she  did  not  tell  them  that  Mrs.  Clifford  was  going 
away  that  day,  and  had  given  her  (Mrs.  Bingham)  a 
month's  rent  not  to  tell  a7iy  one  ;  but  she  pursed  up  her 
lips  so  that  they  saw  a  secret  was  burning  to  escape 
through  them.  Moreover,  she  sighed  deeply  two  or 
three  times  in  the  way  she  had  been  wont  to  sigh  in 
old  days  when  their  rent  was  overdue.  Finally,  they 
heard  her  whisper  as  she  went  out  of  the  room  : 

''  Ah,  poor  Jock,  you'll  lose  a  friend,  you  will  !  " 

"  What's  the  old  harridan  aiming  at,  do  you  think, 
Stanley?" 

St.  Errol's  face  was  flushed  as  he  asked  the  question, 
and  he  looked  unfeignedly  anxious. 

"  Can't  say,"  said  Stanley.  ''  We  don't  owe  her  any- 
thing in  these  halcyon  days,  so  it  can't  be  that." 

"  Do  yon  think  Mrs.  Clifford  is — a — is  not  well  after 
the  exertions  of  last  night  ?" 

"  Dear  me,  St.  Errol,  what  an  old  woman  you're  get- 
ing  !  Why,  in  the  name  of  all  that's  probable,  should 
the  woman  feel  the  exertions   of  last  night  more  than 


A  Decided  Step.  49 

the  exertions  of  anv  of  the  other  nights  of  her 
life  ?  " 

**  Did  you  liear  wliat  Mrs.    Binghum  said  to  Jock  ?" 

"  Yes." 

*MVell,  wliat  could  that  mean  ?" 

*'  Probably  that  she  Avishes  Jock  to  feel  jiiquant  pain 
at  parting  ■with  Mrs.    Bingham." 

*' I  think  she  referred  to  Mrs.  Clifford  in  some 
way." 

*'  ^fy  dear  boy,  you've  got  Mrs.  Clifford  on  the  brain. 
Chuck  all  this  nonsense,  St.  Errol.  Go  down  to  Ches- 
hire and  have  a  look  at  that  lordly  pleasure-house  of 
yours.  ^liss  St.  Errol  is  all  right  with  Mrs.  Smithers, 
and  Smithers  is  far  more  likely  to  pick  up  a  suitable 
chaperon  for  Miss  St.  Errol  tlian  you  are.  You're  only 
mooning  away  your  time  here." 

"  ril  go — to-morrow,"  St.  Errol  said  hesitatingly. 
"I'll  go  for  a  few  days.  But  what  good  shall  I  do 
there  without  you,  Stanley  ?  " 

"  You'll  fall  on  your  feet  all  right  enough.  I'll  join 
when  I  get  leave." 

**  That's  a  far  cry.     If  I  go  you  must  go  with  me." 

"  '  And  wlieresoever  !Mary  went 
The  lamb  was  sure  to  go,' " 

Stanley  quoted.  *  You'll  have  Jock,  at  any  rate — 
won't  he,  old  boy  ?  And  aren't  you  the  dearest  old  dog 
in  the  world  ?  Say  '  Yes/  and  you  shall  have  this 
bone." 

Jock,  with  the  villainous  eye  cast  on  the  bone,  and 
the   pious  cue   on   the  giver  of  it,  said  **Ye8"in  a 
sharp  snap. 
4 


5o  Comrades  True. 

*'  Was  it  a  good  bone,  Jock  ?  Tell  me,  and  you  shall 
have  cream  and  biscuits." 

In  days  of  yore  it  used  to  be  mere  milk  and  biscuits, 
but  these  are  days  of  "  now,"  not  of  ''  yore." 

Jock  spoke  up  eloquently  for  the  proffered  dainties, 
but  as  he  didn't  gobble  it  all  ujo  at  one  mouthful,  St. 
Errol  said  : 

*'Jock  knows  there's  something  up,  something 
wrong  ;  he's  off  his  feed.  Come  and  tell  his  master, 
then.  What  is  it  ?  Want  to  go  out,  then  ?  By  Jove, 
Stanley  !  the  dog  wants  to  go  to  Mrs.  Clifford." 

"  Sympathetic  dog,"  Stanley  laughed. 

"  That's  what  he  is,"  St.  Errol  cried  eagerly.  "  He's 
as  full  of  sympathy  as  his  hide  can  hold.  He  found 
her  out  months  before  we  did.  Do  you  think,"  he 
added  sheepishly,  "  that,  as  she  is  so  fond  of  the  dog, 
and  the  dog  so  devoted  to  her,  it  mightn't  be  rather  a 
graceful  thing  to  give  him  to  her  ?  " 

Stanley  wheeled  round  on  his  chair,  planted  his  hands 
on  his  knees,  and  gazed  steadily  at  his  chum  for  a  full 
minute.     Then  he  said  deliberately  : 

*'  Look  here,  old  chap,  you're  in  a  bad  way.  Fll 
send  for  some  ice  and  get  a  doctor  in  to  look  at  you. 
Perhaps  you'll  need  the  strait-jacket.  Most  likely  you 
do,  when  you  speak  of  giving  Jock  to  '  her,'  whoever 
she  may  be.  Why,  Jock's  one  of  us,  and  the  most  sen- 
sible one  at  the  present  juncture.  You'll  be  offering 
to  give  me  to  her  next." 

They  both  roared  at  this,  and  Mrs.  Clifford,  sitting 
in  her  now  desolate  room  above,  heard  their  light 
laughter,  and  tried  to  find  comfort  in  the  thought  that 
''  he  "  would  soon  forget  her.  Every  woman  knows 
how  truly  consolatory  this  reflection  is  ! 


A  Decided  Step.  51 

About  an  lionr  after  tlic  sound  of  wheals  attracted 
Mrs.  Clifford  to  the  window.  She  saw  the  two  young 
men  get  into  a  hansom,  and  at  once  rang  for  her  cab. 
She  was  in  a  fever  of  anxiety  for  fear  they  should  re- 
turn before  her  luggage  was  piled  up.  The  cabman 
seemed  slow,  and  every  minute  an  hour,  until  she  was 
fairly  away  from  the  place  where  she  had  known  at  first 
peace,  tlien  bliss,  then  misery.  The  latter  she  was 
taking  away  with  her.  She  had  herself  driven  at  once 
to  her  agent's,  and  fortunately  found  him  disengaged. 

"  Have  you  booked  me  for  any  more  London  engage- 
ments ?  "  she  began  abruptly. 

**  Not  yet,  but  in  a  week  I  shall  be  able  to  offer  you 
many." 

"  Don't  get  them  for  me  :  I  want  to  go  either  to 
America  or  Australia." 

**  But,  my  dear  madam,  consider,  just  as  you  arc  on 
the  highroad  to  success '' 

"  There  are  highroads  to  success  elsewhere.  If  you 
will  not  help  me,  I  will  go  to  someone  else." 

He  thought  for  a  moment,  and  then  said  : 

"  I  will  cable  to  a  Xew  York  agent  who  is  getting  up 
an  English  touring  concert  company  ;  as  soon  as  I  have 
his  reply  you  shall  know  it.     Your  address  is " 

"Great  Western  Hotel,  Paddingtou;"  then  she 
added  impulsively  :  "  I  shall  bo  grateful  to  you  all  my 
life  if  you  help  me  to  get  away  now." 

"You  may  bo  away  for  eighteen  months,"  he  said, 
as  he  shook  hands  with  her  heartily. 

"  All  the  better  for  mc  if  I  am  away  for  eighteen 
years,"  she  said. 

lie  won  her  gratitude,  for  a  week  later  she  sailed 
witii  a  concert  company  for  New  York. 


52  Comrades  True. 

As  soon  as  St.  Errol  had  determined  on  taking  the 
phinge  and  going  down  to  Cheshire  the  following  day, 
he  lost  no  time  in  making  his  preparations.  Mr. 
Smithers  was  invaluable.  He  found  a  valet  who  might 
have  lived  with  St.  Errol  from  his  birth  from  the  way 
in  which  he  thoroughly  comprehended  his  master  from 
the  moment  he  entered  his  lordship's  service.  A  charm- 
ing elderly  lady — well  born,  well  bred,  and  well  prin- 
cipled— had  been  found  to  take  upon  herself  the  charge 
of  Stella.  Everything  was  settled  as  he  drove  back  to 
the  lodgings  to  fetch  Jock  ;  they  were  to  sleep  at  an 
hotel  that  night,  and  take  leave  of  Mrs.  Clifford — for 
a  time. 

He  had  no  premonition  of  the  blow  in  store  for  him 
as  he  entered,  calling  out  gaily  to  Jock  ;  but  Mrs.  Bing- 
ham met  him  in  tears. 

"  Tell  Mrs.  Clifford  I've  come  to  say  good-bye. 
What's  the  matter  ?  " 

"  She's  gone,  my  lord." 

'^Gone?" 

"  Yes,  my  lord — gone  for  good.'' 

St.  Errol  staggered  like  a  drunken  man,  while  Jock, 
with  an  expression  of  deepest  woe  on  his  face,  sat  up 
on  his  hind-legs,  put  his  forepaws  together,  and  waved 
them  to  and  fro  in  deepest  futile  sympathy. 

At  that  moment  a  carriage  drew  up  at  the  door,  and 
an  unexpected  visitor  arrived  upon  the  scene. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MR.  CLIFFORD. 

A  CARRIAGE  stopped,  ciml  the  street  door  being  still 
open,  .Mrs.  Bingham  was  begiuning  to  glorify  herself 
at  the  sight  of  the  windows  of  her  opposite  neighbors 
crowded  with  envious,  gaping  faces. 

She  had  winded  it  abroad  noisily  that  "  one  of  the 
young  gentlemen  who  had  lived  with  her  so  long  was  a 
real  lord,"  and  this  had  caused  a  good  deal  of  ill-feeling 
that  was  delightful  to  her  to  arise  in  this  district  that 
was  of  the  lodging-house  order.  Xow,  this  carriage 
and  pair  surely  portended  another  peer.  Her  vision  of 
glory  was  a  brief  one. 

A  tall  dark  man,  with  a  sliglit  stoop  and  the  marks 
of  more  than  slight  dissipation  on  his  pallid  face,  got 
out  of  the  carriage  and  came  leisurely  up  the  steps.  At 
sight  of  him  St.  Errol  involuntarily  retreated  into  his 
own  fastness,  for  he  recognized  the  man  who,  with  a 
loud-looking  lady  companion,  had  been  standing  by 
when  his  card  and  Madame  iMlma's  message  liad  been 
given  to  him  last  night  at  the  concert-hall.  But  the 
stranger  had  already  recognized  him,  and  the  recogni- 
tion seemed  to  give  the  stranger  pleasure. 

''  Is  Mrs.  ClifTord  at  home  ?  "  he  asked  of  the  smiling, 
curtseying  landlady. 

53 


54  Comrades  True. 

"  Please  to  walk  in,  sir,  Mrs.  Clifford — and  oh,  the 
turn  it  gave  me  I — Mrs.  Clifford " 

''  Give  her  this  card,  and  tell  her  that  her  husband 
is  impatient  to  see  her.     I  am  Mr.  Clifford." 

He  smiled  unpleasantly  as  he  spoke,  and  St.  Errol, 
who  had  heard  the  words  as  the  stranger  had  intended 
that  he  should,  was  unwillingly  impelled  to  step  forward 
to  the  door  of  his  room,  half  Avith  the  intention  of 
closing  it,  half  with  the  desire  to  get  a  nearer  view  of 
the  man  who  dared  to  claim  to  be  "  her  "  husband. 

"  Mrs.  Clifford  left  this  morning,  sir — packed  up  and 
left  all  sudden-like " 

"Where  is  she  gone?"  the  stranger  interrupted, 
still  keeping  his  eyes  on  St.  Errol,  whose  nerve  was  re- 
stored by  the  suddenness  of  this  new  event,  and  who 
was  giving  the  intruder  back  look  for  look. 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,  sir,"  Mrs.  Bingham  replied, 
half  whimpering.  "  Fve  done  all  1  could  to  make  the 
lady  comf  ortable,and  a  nicer,  more  pleasant  lady  to " 

"  Where  is  my  wife,  sir  ?  What  have  you  done  with 
her  ?"  the  stranger  asked,  with  sudden  vehemence  and 
a  dangerous  look  in  his  eyes,  of  St.  Errol. 

"  I  wish  indeed  that  I  knew,  but  if  I  did  I  should 
not  tell  you,"  St.  Errol  said  haughtily. 

''You  witness  what  he  says,"  Mr.  Clifford  (for  he 
really  had  lapsed  into  truth  in  declaring  himself  to  be 
Mr.  Clifford)  said  venomously,  turning  to  Mrs.  Bing- 
ham ;  "  you  hear  him  say  that  he  would  not  tell  me  where 
my  wife  is  '  even  if  he  knew.'  Undoubtedly  you  know, 
young  man  ;  I  saw  you  at  her  concert  last  night.  I 
saw  her  smile  her  thanks  for  the  bouquet  you  sent  her ; 
I  saw  you  call  for  her  at  the  door  of  the  artists'  room  ; 
I  find  you  at  her  lodgings  this  morning,  and  yet  you 


Mr.  Clifford.  55 

have  the  feeble  andacity  to  tell  me  that  yon  do  not 
know  where  she  is.  I  am  neither  a  cliild  nor  a  fool, 
though  probably  yon  think  mc  one  for  wishing  to  take 
back  such  a  wife  as  Dalnia  is "' 

"  If  you  utter  another  word  in  that  strain  I'll  knock 
yon  down  ! "  St.  Errol  interrupted,  in  a  tone  of  such 
concentrated  rage  that  Mr.  Clifford  retreated  in  haste 
to  the  top  doorstep. 

"  His  lordship  is  as  innocent  as  the  babe  unborn  of 
the  lady's  whereabouts,"  Mrs.  Bingham  put  in,  with 
ill-advised  partisanship.  "  I'm  sure  you  might  have 
knocked  him  down  with  a  feather  just  now  wlien  he 
came  in  and  I  told  him  Mrs.  Clifford  was  gone." 

"  Oh,  I  might  have  knocked  him  down  with  a 
feather,  might  I  ?"  Mr.  Clifford  took  care  to  get  one 
foot  on  the  step  of  the  carriage  as  he  spoke.  "  I  sliall 
*  knock  him  down  '  with  something  rather  stronger 
than  that  before  long." 

"  Can't  you  take  the  word  of  a  gentleman  ?  "  St. 
Errol  asked  furiously. 

And  Jock,  seeing  that  there  was  something  wrong, 
went  like  lightning,  or,  rather,  like  the  agile  fox  terrier 
he  was,  for  that  leg  of  Mr.  Clifford's  that  was  still  left 
upon  the  pavement. 

"  Come  away,  Jock  ;  let  him  alone,"  St.  Errol  said 
contemptuously. 

And  Jock,  with  a  long-drawn-out  growl,  did  as  ho 
waa  requested  to  do. 

■\Vlien  Mr.  Clifford  was  safely  ensconced  in  tlie 
carriage,  he  put  his  head  out  of  the  window,  and  called 
Mrs.  Bingham. 

"  What  is  that  man's  name  ?"  he  asked. 

"  He   isn't  a— I    mean    he's   a   lord,    sir— Lord    St. 


56  Comrades  True. 

Errol ;  he've  only  jnst  come  to  his  rank,  and  a  nicer 
young " 

"  I  know ;  that  will  do.  When  did  Mrs  Clifford 
leave  ? " 

'^  About  three  hours  ago,  sir.^' 

"  How  did  she  go — in  a  cab  or  carriage  ?" 

"  Cab,  sir." 

''  Who  fetched  it  ?  " 

"  My  girl,  sir." 

"  Call  your  girl  up." 

A  sloppy,  merry-looking  girl,  with  shoes  down  at 
heel  and  hair  hanging  loose  over  her  ears,  answered  the 
summons,  and  with  perfect  self-possession  and  keen 
enjoyment  of  the  situation  came  up  to  the  carriage 
window. 

"  You  fetched  a  cab  this  morning  for  Mrs.  Clifford. 
Where  did  you  fetch  it  from  ?  " 

''  The  public-house  at  the  corner." 

"  What  was  the  number  ?  " 

''  I  didn't  see,  sir.  Missus  was  waiting,  and  I  didn't 
notice  the  number,  sir." 

"  Was  it  a  strange  cab,  or  one  belonging  to  one  of 
the  stands  close  by  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  know  the  gentleman  that  drove  it." 

"  Would  you  know  the  man  again  if  you  saw  him  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,  sir  ;  I  never  looks  much  at  men.  Besides, 
I  knew  the  lidy  was  in  a  hurry,  so  I  says  to  him  : 
'  Drive  on  to  24  ; '  and  then  I  went  an  errand." 

The  servant  had  a  clean  heart  though  her  clothes 
were  dirty.  Intuition  taught  her  that  '  time  '  was  a 
matter  of  moment  to  the  '  dear  lidy  '  who  had  always 
been  good  to  her,  so  with  a  gutter-born  mental  agility 
she  dodged  Mr.  Clifford  at  every  turn. 


Mr.  Clifford.  57 

**  Have  you  ever  seen  any  one  meet  Mrs.  Clifford — 
any  one  living  in  the  house — when  she  comes  home  of 
an  evening  ?  " 

Even  he  blushed  faintly  as  he  asked  the  question. 

"  Yes,  sir,  most  times." 

The  girl's  eyes  were  raised  to  his  most  frankly. 

**  Ah,  who  was  it — a  gentleman  ?  " 

**  Yes,  sir,  a  gentleman." 

"  Tell  me  who — who — tell  me  his  name  at  once, 
girl." 

"  Jock,  sir." 

"  Jock  ?     What  else  ?  " 

*'  Jock,  the  fox  terrier,  sir.     He " 

"  Drive  on  to  the  park  !  "  Mr.  Clifford  shouted. 

And  Dalma's  humble  ally  betook  herself  into  the 
house,  giggling. 

Lord  8t.  Errol  called  her  into  his  room. 

"  You're  a  good  little  girl,  Alice,"  he  said  kindly  ; 
and  he  emphasized  his  words  with  the  gift  of  a 
Bovereign. 

*'  Thank  your  lordship.  I'd  'a  teased  him  longer  if 
he  'adn't  drove  off  in  such  a  hurry." 

"  You  do  know  that  cabman's  number,  Alice.  Tell 
it  to  mc." 

Alice  looked  up  with  a  twinkle  in  licr  eye. 

''  I  wouldn't  say  it  wasn't  "^or.^,"  she  said  demurely. 

"  And  he  stands " 

*'  Top  corner  of  the  street,  your  lordship." 

"  Co  and  fetch  him,"  8t.  Errol  ordered. 

And  presently  "ZOl'Z  was  being  interviewed  by  his 
lordship,  and  the  latter  was  in  possession  of  the  address 
to  which  Mrs.  Clifford  had  been  driven. 

But  matters  wore  not  much  further  advanced  when 


58  Comrades  True. 

he  got  there.  The  agent  resohitely  refused  to  give 
him  Madame  Dalma's  temporary  address. 

^'  She  gave  it  to  me  in  confidence,"  he  said.  ''  Ma- 
dame Dalma  is  not  a  woman  to  say  one  thing  and  mean 
another.  What  her  motive  may  be  in  enveloping  herself 
in  mystery,  I  do  not  know,  but  it  must  be  a  good  one, 
for  a  purer,  better  woman  than  she  is  never  lived." 

"  I  know  that  perfectly  well,"  St.  Errol  said  hotly. 
It  is  because  she  is  so  good,  so  perfect  in  every  way, 
that  I  want  to  see  her  and  warn  her  of  a  danger, 
with  which  I  have  just  become  acquainted,  which  is 
pursuing  her." 

^'  You  may  safely  trust  me  to  convey  any  message 
from  you  to  her,  or  a  letter  if  you  like,  but  I  will  not 
give  you  her  address." 

''You  may  safely  trust  me  also,"  St.  Errol  urged  ; 
and  he  was  about  to  add  :  "^  For  I  worship  the  ground 
she  treads  on." 

But  a  moment's  reflection  showed  him  that  the  speech 
was  hardly  calculated  to  win  the  agent's  further  confi- 
dence. 

So  it  resulted  in  St,  Errol  writing  a  letter  to  Mrs. 
Clifford,  in  which  he  gave  a  full  and  fiery  account  of 
the  morning's  events,  and  Mr.  Clifford's  visit  to  her 
late  lodgings.  It  concluded  with  a  heart-broken  appeal 
to  her  to  see  him  once  more,  and  he  gave  her  his  ad- 
dress at  his  hotel. 

To  this  she  replied  with  a  note  containing  two  words 
only  :"  Thanks.  Finis."  And  when  he  had  read  them 
St.  Errol  knew  that  his  boyish  love-dream  was  over  in- 
deed. 

The  dread  of  falling  in  with  her  husband,  who  had 
inarried,  humiliated,  insulted,  and  deserted  her  through 


I 


Mr.  Clifford.  59 

no  fanlt  of  hers,  was  so  strongly  npon  her  that  she  re- 
mained a  close  prisoner  in  the  Great  Western  Hotel 
for  three  or  four  days  ;  then  she  was  compelled  to  go 
ont  to  got  some  lace  which  she  had  left  to  be  cleaned 
at  a  shop  in  New  Bond  Street,  and  which  would  be 
useful  on  her  tour.  She  was  to  sail  the  next  day,  and 
therefore,  as  she  had  no  one  to  send,  she  veiled  herself 
thickly,  and  went  for  it  herself.  As  she  came  out  of 
the  shop  a  voice,  with  a  ring  of  pain  in  it,  cried  out : 

'•  ^[rs.  ClitTord  I  ]\rrs.  Clillord  !     1  have  found  you ; 
I  won't  lose  you  again  !  " 


CHAPTER  VII. 


TEMPTED. 


It  was  Stella — of  course  it  was  Stella.  No  one  else 
would  have  hurled  herself  out  of  a  carriage  and  flung 
her  arms  round  another  woman's  neck  in  New  Bond 
Street  but  Stella. 

"  Now  I  shall  take  you  to  him  ;  he's  so  ill,  poor  dar- 
ling !  He  has  a  hospital  nurse  with  him,  and  Jock 
and  Mr.  Stanley  ;  and  Mrs.  Ogilvie  and  I  go  to  see  him 
every  day.  But  always,  when  he  doesn't  know  what  he 
is  saying,  he  keeps  calling  for  you." 

"  That  is  only  when  he  doesn't  know  what  he  is 
saying,  Stella  dear,"  Mrs.  Clifford  said,  with  a  sorry 
smile. 

Stella  had  not  named  him,  but  the  woman  who  loved 
him  knew  intuitively  that  it  was  of  Lord  St.  Errol  the 
girl  spoke. 

"  Get  in,"  Stella  said,  with  affectionate  impressive- 
ness.  "Mrs.  Ogilvie,  this  is  my  dear  friend,  Mrs. 
Clifford.     Do  get  in." 

"  Yes,  I  will,  if  you  will  drive  me  to  the  Great 
Western  Hotel." 

"  I  shall  drive  you  to  the  Albemarle,  where  Lord  St. 
Errol  is.     The  sight  of  you  will  do  him  more  good  than 
all  the  doctors  and  nurses  in  the  world — won't  it,  Mrs. 
Ogilvie  ?  " 
60 


Tempted.  6i 

With  all  the  desire  in  tlie  world  to  oblige  her  charm- 
ing and  most  extraordinarily-brought-up  charge,  Mrs. 
Ogilvie  Mas  too  much  a  woman  of  the  world  to  give  in 
her  adhesion  to  such  a  wild  whim  as  this.  But  just  as 
she  was  beginning  to  expostulate,  Mrs.  Clifford  broke 
in  with  such  dignified  pathos  that  iheothers  were  com- 
pelled to  listen  to  and  obey  her. 

*'  My  grief  at  hearing  of  Lord  St.  Errol's  illness  is 
only  equalled  by  my  grief  at  being  unable  to  go  to  him, 
but  I  must  never  see  him  again,  dear  Stella.  He  has 
only  known  me  four  or  five  days.  I  have  watched  him 
for  six  months,  and  each  day  with  greater  interest.  It 
is  not  my  fault  that  he  ever  knew  me  ;  it  is  his  misfor- 
tune and  mine.  Stella  will  listen  to  you,"  she  said, 
turning  to  ^Irs.  Ogilvie,  "  and  you  will  make  her  un- 
derstand why  I  must  never  see  Lord  St.  Errol  again,  and 
why  I  am  sailing  for  America  to-morrow,  when  I  tell 
you  that  I  have  a  husband.'' 

*'  But  not  alive  ?  "  Stella  gasped  out.  '*  No,  it  can't 
be  true  !  not  alive  !" 

"  My  dear,"  Mrs,  Ogilvie  said,  putting  her  cool,  calm 
hand  on  Stella's,  "you  must  not  speak  as  if  you  wished 
Mrs.  Clifford's  husband  dead." 

"That's  exactly  what  I  do  !  No,  I  don't  quite  mean 
that,  but  I  do  wish  that  he  had  never  lived." 

Stella  could  not  bring  herself  to  make  any  further 
concession  to  propriety  and  humanity  than  was  con- 
tained in  these  words.  During  the  last  few  days  of  his 
dangerous  illness  Stella  had  come  to  take  a  deep  and 
affectionate  interest  in  the  sick  man,  though  his  sickness 
was  caused  by  his  overwhelming  and  disajipointed  love 
for  another  woman.  She  would  have  braved  Mrs. 
Grundy    right  and  left   to  have  given  him  a  minute's 


62  Comrades  True. 

pleasure.  That  Mrs.  Clifford,  who  undoubtedly  did  care 
for  him  greatly,  should  calmly  speak  of  going  off  to 
America  the  followiug  day  without  seeing  him,  when 
every  facility  was  offered  her  for  doing  so,  was  incom- 
prehensible to  the  girl,  who  had  been  brought  up  in 
absolute  ignorance  of  what  the  world's  verdict  is  on  a 
woman  who  even  seems  to  forget  that  she  is  a  wife. 

*'  What  are  your  plans — your  professional  ones — in 
America?"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  asked. 

She  was  a  great  concert-goer,  and  the  personnel  of 
the  beautiful  soprano  was  well  known  to  her. 

Mrs.  Clifford  explained  that  she  was  engaged  at  a 
good  salary  to  go  out  with  Madame  Valdi's  Concert 
Company  ;  that  they  were  to  open  in  New  York,  and 
tour  through  the  United  States  ;  that  the  advance 
agent  prophesied  fine  receptions  and  big  houses  for 
them  in  all  the  big  cities  ;  and,  finally,  that  she  intend- 
ed to  live  in  her  art,  devote  herself  exclusively  to  study 
and  work,  and,  if  possible,  forget  the  past  and  leave  it 
behind  her. 

When  she  had  finished  detailing  her  plans,  she  said 
to  Stella  : 

"  You  have  a  bit  of  my  past  that  I  didn't  mean  to 
leave  behind  me,  dear.  I  will  write  to  you,  and  you 
must  write  to  me,  on  condition  that  you  never  tell  Lord 
St.  Errol  anything  about  me,  that  you  never  mention 
me  to  him.     Will  you  promise  this  ?  " 

Stella  glibly  gave  the  required  promise  Just  as  they 
drew  up  at  the  entrance  to  the  Great  Western  Hotel. 
As  Stella  was  giving  her  friend  a  parting  hug  she  ex- 
claimed : 

"  Oh,  you've  got  a  lovely  locket,  just  like  one  I 
have!'' 


Tempted.  63 

Then  tliere  were  more  good-bys,  ami  kissing,  and 
tears,  and  tlien  Mrs.  Clifford  found  herself  standing 
alone  outside  the  hotel. 

Alone  only  for  a  few  moments  ;  then  a  well-known 
little  brougham  drew  up,  and  out  of  it  stepped  Mr. 
Clifford. 

She  shuddered  as  ho  approached  her,  hat  in  hand, 
with  an  air  of  mock  obsequious  courtesy — shuddered, 
not  with  fear,  but  with  antipathy. 

"Can  I  have  half  an  hour's  in-ivato  conversation  with 
you,  madam  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Certainly  ;  but  it  must  be  in  the  public  saloon.  I 
have  no  private  sitting-room." 

"  I  have  taken  some  trouble  to  secure  the  inestimable 
privilege  of  a  few  words  with  my  fair  wife,"  hcAvent  on 
sneeringly.  '"  I  saw  you  get  into  a  carriage  in  New  Bond 
Street,  and  I  followed  you,  with  this  happy  result — that 
I  have  found  you." 

She  wasted  no  time  by  replying  to  this,  but  led  the 
way  quickly  to  tlic  saloon,  where  she  seated  herself,  and 
motioned  him  to  a  chair  at  some  little  distance. 

"I  have  come,"  he  began,  "to  make  a  proposal  to 
you  which  I  think — I  hope — will  be  as  agreeable  to  you 
as  it  is  to  me." 

lie  paused,  but  she  said  nothing.  She  sat  very  still, 
and  looked  at  him  steadily. 

lie  went  on  to  describe  his  visit  to  lier  late  lodgings, 
his  brief  and  warm  interview  with  Lord  St.  Errol,  and, 
lastly,  the  intention  he  had  briefly  entertained  of  put- 
ting her  into  tlio  Divorce  Court.  Her  bosom  heaved 
and  her  eyes  flashed  when  lie  told  her  this  ;  still  she  did 
not  speak. 

"  Does  the  prospect  terrify  you,  my  lady  'i  " 


64  Comrades  True. 

*'Not  at  all/'  she  said  quietly.  ''Why  should  an 
idle  threat  terrify  me  ?  " 

"  I  have  now  to  propose  a  pleasanter  alternative. 
Why  do  you  not  divorce  me  ?  You  could  do  it  easily 
enough  ;  then  you  would  be  free  to  marry  that  love- 
sick boy  who  has  fretted  himself  into  a  fever  on  your 
account." 

"  What  do  you  take  me  for  ?  " 

She  spoke  so  coolly  that  he  began  to  congratulate 
himself  on  his  diplomatic  move. 

"A  woman  !  "  he  replied. 

"  Yes,  a  woman.     Such  an  one  as " 

"  As  whom,  for  instance  ?  " 

''As  you  best  know  and  understand.  But  I  should 
have  thought  that  you  remembered  enough  about  me 
to  know  that  nothing  the  world  can  offer  me  would 
induce  me  to  commit  such  a  deadly  sin  as  to  divorce 
you." 

He  rose  up. 

"  Is  that  all  you  have  to  say  ?  Is  that  your  final 
word  ?  " 

"It  is." 

''  Well,  I  think  you  are  a  foolish  woman.  If  yon 
did  as  I  suggested,  you  would  have  rank,  position, 
wealth,  'and  the  legal  love  of  a  man  who  adores  you." 

"  There  are  two  other  things  I  should  have  which 
you  seem  to  have  forgotten," 

"  What  are  they  ?  "  he  asked, 

"  An  unquiet  conscience  and  a  lost  soul." 

He  seemed  about  to  speak,  thought  better  of  it,  then 
rose  up  and  bowed  low  as  he  said  :  "  Good-morning, 
madam,"  and  left  her. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE    AWAKENIXG    OF   STELLA. 

Mrs.  Ooilvie,  the  widow  of  a  general  and  the 
daughter  of  a  good  house,  had  a  very  nice,  comfortable 
income  of  her  own  ;  so  it  was  neither  need  nor  greed, 
but  sheer  kind-heartedness,  which  had  induced  her  to 
take  charge  of  Stella  and  launch  her  into  society. 

She  had  a  charming  little  Hat  in  town,  and  a  very 
pretty  cottage  in  the  country.  She  had  legions  of 
friends,  both  men  and  women,  for  she  was  one  of  tliosc 
women,  whose  hearts  remain  young,  but  who  are  quite 
contented  to  look  their  full  age,  whatever  that  may  bo. 
She  had  a  fine  taste  in  literature,  and  contrived  tliat 
the  best  books  of  the  day  should  be  conveniently  to 
Stella's  hand  without  ever  trying  to  coerce  the  girl  into 
reading  them.  She  liked  society,  knowing  it  well,  aiul 
being  quite  capable  of  winnowing  the  grain  from  the 
chaff.  She  loved  music  and  the  drama,  and  after  the 
first  week  she  was  as  good  as  a  guide-book  to  the  Royal 
Academy.  A  thorough  aristocrat  in  theory,  she  was  a 
large-hearted  Bohemian  in  practice.  Any  denizen  of 
the  "  beautiful  city  of  Prague  "  whom  she  chanced  to 
meet  who  showed  talent  and  merit  was  a  welcome  guest 
at  her  I^ondon  Hat  or  her  pretty  country  cottage. 
Scandal  never  lifted  its  ugly  liead  at  her  delightful  little 
S  65 


66  Comrades  True. 

dinners  to  two  or  three  people,  dinners  where  yon  did 
not  meet  with  all  the  delicacies  of  the  season,  but 
where  you  met  many  a  delicacy  of  mind  and  heart. 

This,  faintly  sketched,  was  the  woman  to  whose  care 
Stella  St.  Errol  was  entrusted. 

While  St.  Errol  was  lying  ill,  Stella  had  refused  to 
go  out  at  all ;  but  when  he  took  the  right  turn  the  girl 
went  with  all  her  heart  into  all  the  amusements  that 
were  provided  for  her.  Acting  under  St.  Errol's  in- 
structions, Stanley  had  her  mare  and  groom  sent  up, 
and  he  (Stanley),  still  acting  under  her  guardian's  in- 
structions, was  her  constant  escort. 

He  had  given  up  the  Admiralty  clerkship  now,  and 
was  relying  entirely  on  journalism,  in  which  he  had 
made  a  good  mark,  and  by  which  he  made  a  good  in- 
come. 

Sometimes  he  felt  himself  to  be  a  fool  for  his  pains 
in  seeing  so  mncli  of  Stella,  and  he  would  leave,  vowing 
he  would  "  cut  it  all,  and  never  see  her  again." 

But  these  vows  were  invariably  broken,  and  he  tried 
to  persuade  himself  they  were  justifiably  broken.  St. 
Errol  could  not  or  would  not  do  without  his  companion- 
ship, and  St.  Errol  was  still  far  too  weak  to  be  thwarted. 
Accordingly,  when  St.  Errol  would  ask  this  "  special 
one  "  of  the  young  lions  of  the  daily  press  to  '^  Look 
after  dear  little  Stella  for  me,  old  chap.  Though  I  am 
miserable  myself,  I  don't  want  my  misery  to  react  on 
that  poor  child.  You  can  spare  her  an  hour,  can't  you, 
and  go  for  a  spin  with  her  ?  " — when  St.  Errol  would 
speak  in  this  way,  what  could  Stanley  do  but  take  her 
for  the  spin,  and  sink  deeper  into  the  mire  of  hopeless 
love  as  he  did  it  ? 

Sometimes  he  felt  that  he  must  lay  bare  his  wound 


The  Awakening  of  Stella.  67 

to  St.  Errol,  and  tell  the  latter  that  for  liis  heart  and 
honor's  sake  he  must  ''  cut  it,"  and  go  for  that  wonder- 
ful "  cure,"  absence.  But  lie  knew  that  St.  Errol 
would  refuse  to  see  any  difficulties  in  his  path,  and 
would  want  to  smooth  them  over,  even  if  he  could  be 
made  to  see  them.  80  he  continued  to  ride  with  Miss 
St.  Errol  :  lie  had  surreptitiously  gone  through  a  course 
of  riding-lessons  under  the  guidance  of  a  past-master 
in  the  art  of  equitation,  so  he  cut  a  very  respectable 
figure  in  the  Row,  though  he  was  by  no  means  up  to  the 
mark  of  the  magnificent  young  horsewoman  wlioni  he 
attended. 

Stella  was  very  friendly  with  Stanley,  but  not  in  the 
frankly,  almost  childish  way  she  had  been  previous  to 
her  coming  out.  Her  moods  were  less  variable  ;  she 
was  not  subject  to  such  violent  transitions  of  thought 
and  manner.  In  fact,  **she  was  developing  from  an 
inexperienced  child  into  a  girl  of  the  world,"  he 
thought,  and  ho  was  sorry  for  it. 

Mrs.  Ogilvie  invited  him  frerpiently  to  dinner,  and  ho 
always  went,  chielly,  he  thought,  to  oblige  St.  Errol, 
who  liked  to  hear  of  Stella  and  her  daily  doings  and 
BurrounJings.  !Mrs.  Ogilvie  had  put  a  stop  to  Stella's 
visits  to  her  guardian  as  soon  as  he  was  out  of  danger, 
before,  indeed,  people  had  time  to  shake  their  heads 
and  say  it  looked  odd. 

"I  suppose tliere  are  no  end  of  fellowsafter my ]iretty 
ward  ?  "  St.  Errol  asked,  when  Stanley  came  back  one 
night  from  one  of  these  dinners. 

"There  would  be,  only  it's  the  mystery  of  her  birth 
keeps  many  a  right  good  fellow  off,"  Stanley  said  un- 
willingly. He  hated  discussing  Stella  and  Stella's 
mutriinoniul  chances  even  wiLii  St.  Errol. 


68  Comrades  True. 

"Obstinate  old  man  Smitbers  is,'^  St.  Errol  said  ir- 
ritably ;  "he  knows,  and  be  migbt  just  as  well  tell  me, 
wbo  and  wbat  tbe  girl  is.  I  don't  believe  tbere  is  any- 
thing disgraceful  about  ber  parentage,  do  you  ?" 

''Of  course  I  don't;  notbing  disgraceful  ever  can 
have  bad,  or  ever  will  have,  anything  to  do  with  her." 

St.  Errol  was  thoughtful  for  a  short  time.  Then  he 
said  : 

"  I  know  I'm  well  enough  to  travel.  Shall  we  start 
for  Errol  tbe  clay  after  to-morrow,  Stanley  ?  " 

"I  think  we  bad  better," 

Stella  was  strangely  silent,  both  when  she  was  first 
told  they  were  going,  and  also  when  the  two  young 
men  drove  round  to  say  good-by — so  silent  that  Stan- 
ley's jealous  fears  immediately  scented  a  rival,  and 
fancied  her  thoughts  were  dwelling  on  him.  St.  Errol, 
for  whom  there  was  but  one  woman  in  the  world  at  this 
juncture,  did  not  observe  her  abstraction,  and  therefore 
did  not  speculate  about  it. 

"  As  soon  as  we  have  shaken  into  place,  you'll  bring 
Stella  to  Errol,  won't  you,  Mrs.  Ogilvio  ? "  St.  Errol 
asked,  when  they  were  leaving. 

"  Yes,  certainly  ;  but  Stella  and  I  are  going  to  my 
little  cottage  first.  It's  just  as  well  you  young  men 
should  have  a  little  time  to  yourselves,"  Mrs.  Ogilvie 
answered  St.  Errol,  but  she  looked  at  Stanley  as  she 
spoke. 

"  Just  as  well,"  Stanley  said  curtly,  and  Stella's 
color  rose  angrily. 

''  Good-bye,  Stella,"  St.  Errol  said  kindly.  ''I  shall 
be  glad  when  you  come.  You'll  be  able  to  show  us  all 
the  ins  and  outs  of  the  place.  I  shall  leave  most  of  it 
unexplored  until  you  come." 


Tlic  Awakcnint;  of  Stella.  69 

A  few  muiiths  ago  Stclhi  would  have  asked  Stanley  if 
"  he  would  not  be  glad,  too."  Xow  she  scareely  looked 
at  him.  And  the  tone  in  which  he  wished  her  good- 
bve  might  have  come  from  the  Arctic  regions. 

It  was  early  in  August,  and  people  were  flocking  out 
of  town.  Stella  had  enjoyed  her  first  season,  but,  not- 
withstanding, she  had  girded  at  not  having  been 
**  j)resented."  But  Mrs.  Ogilvie,  after  a  conference 
with  some  sound  authorities  on  the  subject,  had  decreed 
that  it  would  not  be  wise  to  bring  that  special,  fierce 
light  to  boar  upon  her  unknown  charge. 

The  girl  was  quite  ready  to  go  to  the  cottage,  to  go 
anywhere,  in  fact,  away  from  the  London  she  had  so 
longed  to  know.  She  had  not  met  with  any  social  dis- 
appointments. She  had  been  immensely  admired.  She 
had  danced  at  every  ball  to  her  heart's  content,  and 
above  and  beyond  these  things  she  had  received  offers 
of  marriage  from  two  wealthy  men  whose  money  had 
brought  them  into  society,  and  from  a  charming  young 
linesman,  who  had  nothing  but  his  pay,  and  who,  be- 
cause she  would  not  marry  liim,  exchanged  into  tlio 
Army  Service  Corps  and  went  out  to  South  Africa, 
where  he  lived  remote  from  his  kind  upon  tinned 
meats  until  polo  usurped  Stella's  place  in  his  all'ccLions 
and  he  felt  himself  again. 

The  cottage  was  a  delightful  old  red-brick  .-ilTair 
that  hud  once  upon  a  time  long,  long  ago  been  a  way- 
side inn.  But  the  road  in  front  of  it  had  been  turned, 
and  it  now  stood  in  its  own  modestly-proportioned 
grounds.  They  were  kept  with  a  modesty  that  e(|ualed 
tlicir  proportions,  for  ri-asons  that  shall  be  licrcafii-r 
de8cril)cd. 

The   old    house   was   long   and    low,   covered    tliitkly 


7o  Comrades  True. 

with  clematis  and  Japanese  honeysuckle,  myrtle,  ivy, 
and  other  evergreen  joys.  Clambering  freely  amongst 
everything,  taking  the  chimneys  even  into  its  loving 
clasp,  was  the  small-leaved  amphelopsis,  so  briglitly 
green  in  spring  and  summer,  so  richly  orange  and  red 
in  winter — welcome  wherever  it  went  at  the  cottage, 
even  when  it  (as  it  frequently  did)  sealed  several  win- 
dows up  hermetically,, 

The  old  bowling-green  at  the  end  of  the  cottage  had 
been  turned  into  a  tennis-court,  but  it  was  so  seldom 
used  that  Mrs.  Ogilvie's  useful  man,  Jem,  turned  it  to 
practical  account  by  letting  her  jDlump  pony,  Puck, 
nibble  it  down  during  the  hot  summer  days  and  nights. 
There  were  some  trees  at  one  end  of  it — notably  a 
weeping-ash,  under  which  Puck  could  comfortably 
stable  himself  when  the  sun  was  high. 

Red  geraniums  and  mignonette  ran  rampant  in  the 
borders,  and  there  were  some  glass  shades — designed 
for  hotbeds — under  which  chickweed  grew  luxuriantly. 
But  peaches  grew  freely  on  the  sunny  south  wall,  and 
there  was  a  mulberry- tree  which  Stella  soon  found  out, 
the  fruit  of  which  was  so  rich,  large,  and  luscious  that 
strong  men  might  have  been  forgiven  had  they  wept 
when  leaving  it. 

The  inside  of  the  cottage  was  all  chintz  and  Indian 
matting,  and  flowers  and  fresh  air.  They  were  served 
by  an  excellent  woman,  who  cooked  for  them,  and 
waited  upon  them  when  she  had  cooked  in  a  way  that 
made  one  blink  and  ask  if  she  was  not  her  own  double. 
Her  niece  assisted  her.  This  young  person  passed  her 
life  in  a  fierce  warfare  against  dust.  She  would  dust  a 
spotless  chair  before  you  sat  down  upon  it,  and  dust  it 
even  more  assiduously  when  you  rose  from   it.     Her 


The  Awakening  of  Stella.  71 

aunt  said  she  '*  really  thought  a  cobweb  would  throw 
Maria  into  conwulsions."  Stella,  who  had  never  seen 
"  conwulsions,"  but  had  been  familiar  with  cobwebs  at 
Castle  Errol,  tried  to  keep  one  of  the  latter  dark  in  her 
room  until  a  fitting  opportunity  arrived  for  springing 
it  upon  ^laria.  But  Maria  was  too  many  for  her  ;  and 
after  that  one  abortive  attempt  Stella  gave  up  all  hope 
of  studying  convulsions  as  rendered  by  Maria. 

All  the  neigliborhood  came  to  greet  ^Irs.  Ogilvio. 
Between  the  country  neighbors  and  Mrs.  Ogilvio  there 
was  a  great  system  of  give-and-take  as  far  as  luncheons 
and  afternoon  teas  were  concerned,  and  it  soon  became 
horribly  monotonous  to  Stella.  She  pined  for  the 
society  of  the  men  who  had  first  taught  her  that  there 
was  life  outside  Ruse-iu-Vale  and  Errol  Castle.  She 
realized  now  what  golden  days  those  had  been  when  she 
used  to  go  for  exhilarating  spins  in  the  Park,  and  else- 
where, with  Stanley.  She  longed  for  some  younger 
women  friends  than  Mrs.  Ogilvic— for  Mrs.  Clifford, 
who  had  not  kept  her  promise  of  writing  yet.  She 
longed  to  get  away  from  herself  and  her  own  thoughts, 
and  she  did  not  know  how  to  do  it. 

At  last  one  evening,  when  she  was  driving  the  pony 
Puck  through  one  of  the  lovely  lanes  where  the  autumn 
tints  were  richest,  she  mooted  a  matter  that  had  long 
been  seething  in  her  active  brain. 

**  You  know,  dear  Mrs.  Ogilvie,  that  I  have  no  name, 
no  proper  name  ;  I'm  not  a  St.  Errol.'' 

"  You  are  loved  and  treated  as  one." 

"  Hut  I'm  not  one,  all  the  same.  I'm  a  nameless 
being,  and  I  wmit  to  make  a  name  for  myself." 

Mrs.  Ogilvie  was  far  too  clever  a  woman  of  the  world 
to  express  any  surprise. 


72  Comrades  True. 

**  Yes,  dear  ?"  she  said  interrogatively. 
"  You  will  promise  not  to  be  shocked  when  I  tell 
you  ?  " 

"  I  promise." 

"  Then  listen,"  said  Stella,  whipping  up  the  pony. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
Stella's  plan. 

"Whex  Stella  whipped  up  the  pony,  the  latter  re- 
sponded by  trotting  briskly  for  about  thirty  yards,  and 
the  swifter  motion  made  it  easier  for  Stella  to  begin 
her  conlidence. 

"  You  will  either  think  me  very  ambitions  or  very 
foolish,"'  she  began,  and  when  slie  had  got  as  far  as  that 
the  pony  relapsed  into  his  usual  sluggish  pace.  "  I  wish 
Puck  would  trot  ;  I  can't  tell  you  in  cold  blood  while 
Puck  is  crawling  along  in  this  way." 

Mrs.  Ogilvie  stole  a  glance  at  the  girl  who  had  be- 
come dear  as  a  daughter  to  her,  and,  with  the  tact  of 
a  mother,  said  : 

"  All  in  good  time,  dear.  You  will  tell  me  your  plan 
when  it's  needful  I  should  know  it,  and  you  are  always 
sure  of  my  sympathy  and  help." 

.Stella  changed  the  reins  into  her  right  hand,  and 
with  her  disengaged  one  gave  Mrs.  Ogilvie's  hand  a 
liearty  grip. 

"  It's  needful  you  should  know  it  now,  Xevermind, 
Puck,  you  may  crawl  if  you  like  ;  I  feel  better  now. 
Well,  this  is  my  plm  :  I  moan  to  go  on  the  stage." 

Mrs.  Ogilvie  supprossod  any  sign  of  it.  even  if  she 
felt  surprise.  In  perfectly  natural  cheerful  tones  she 
Buid  : 

73 


74  Comrades  True, 

''  Yes,  dear  child  ;  and  how  do  you  propose  getting 
there  ?  I  am  afraid — I  am  very  much  afraid  that  I 
don't  know  any  managers.  I  know  some  struggling 
young  actors  and  actresses,  but  they  are  in  the  thick  of 
the  fray  for  themselves.  Managers  are  the  people  to 
know,  of  course." 

"  And  I  know  two  or  three  already. " 

"  You  do  !  how  have  you  managed  that,  dear  ?  " 

*' Called  on  them.  Often  when  you  have  thought 
that  I  was  out  wasting  my  time  and  money  shopping  I 
have  been  interviewing  managers  and  agents  with  a 
view  to  making  a  career  and  a  7iame  for  myself." 

"  You  dear  little  business-woman  !  Well,  with  what 
success  ?  " 

''  I'll  tell  you.  I  took  care  to  go  perfectly  dressed, 
you  may  be  sure.  Simplicity  wasn't  in  it,  but  it  was 
the  simplicity  that  costs,  as  you  have  taught  me.  The 
first  man  I  saw  said  he  would  let  me  walk  on  in  a  new 
piece  he  is  Just  going  to  bring  out,  but  he  said  I  should 
have  nothing  to  say.  I  didn't  like  the  idea  of  that,  so 
I  begged  him  to  let  me  say  something,  and  he  laughed 
at  me  I     I  walked  out  of  his  office,  and  went  to  another." 

''Ah,  you  couldn't  stand  the  rebuff,  dear!  Well, 
you'll  meet  with  a  good  many  in  the  profession.  How 
did  you  fare  with  the  next  manager  ?" 

"  Oh,  he  was  charming  !  He  asked  me  if  I  would 
read  a  part  to  him,  and  he  gave  me  the  part  of  a  Lon- 
don slavey  with  a  lot  of  Cockney  dialect  in  it.  She's 
a  sentimental,  novel-reading  slavey,  delighting  in  high- 
sounding  names  and  sentiments.  He  roared  with 
laughter,  and  said  I  should  do.  He  offered  me  the 
part  at  a  salary  of  two  pounds  a  week.  Fancy  my 
earnings  tiuo  pounds  a  week  !     Then  he  walked  out  of 


Stella's   Plan.  75 

the  office,  telling  1110  about  rehearsals  ami  tilings,  and 
you  should  have  seen  his  face  when  he  saw  the  brough- 
am, lie  said  at  once  that  he  hoped  soon  '  to  be  able 
to  offer  me  a  better  part  worthy  of  my  undoubted 
talent.'" 

*'  Human  nature,  dear  child.  And  when  do  you 
begin  ? '" 

*'  The  rehearsals  begin  in  November.  You  don't 
think  me  ungrateful  and  foolish,  do  you  ?'' 

"  Xcitlier  one  uor  the  other.  There  is  another  to 
consult,  you  know."' 

"  You  mean  my  guardian  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Ah,  but  when  I  tell  him  how  unhappy  I  am  at  being 
nameless  aiul  dependent,  he  will  let  me  do  as  J  like. 
lie  promised  me  when  I  knew  liim  first  that  I  should 
always  do  as  I  liked." 

"  A  rash  promise.  Still,  I  am  sure  you  would  never 
do  anything  to  hurt  his  feelings,  nor  will  he  do  any- 
thing to  hurt  yours,  lie  has  a  wise  counsellor  in  3Ir. 
Staidey." 

"•  I  hope  he  won't  consult  Mr.  Stanley  about  me." 

'*IIow  very  fat  and  lazy  Puck  is  getting  I  You 
really  must  tell  Jem  not  to  give  him  so  much  hay, 
Stella." 

"  I  will,'*  Stella  said,  laughing.  "I  enjoy  a  wonly 
tussle  with  Jem  ;  he  is  so  sublimely  conceited.'' 

"  And  with  it  all  he  has  so  numy  good  (pialities.  He 
is  very  honest.  The  man  I  had  before  him  grew  plenty 
of  fruit,  but  he  either  ate  it  all  or  sold  it  all.  Xow, 
Jem  fails  to  grow  any  fruit  ;  but,  at  any  rate,  1 
have  the  pleasure  of  feeling  that  I  am  not  being 
cheated." 


'](i  Comrades  True. 

^'  How  shall  I  begin  about  Puck  ?  Shall  I  say  he's 
very  lazy  ?  " 

"If  you  do,  Jem  will  tell  you  that's  the  blackberry 
season.  All  horses  are  lazy  in  the  blackberry  season. 
I  know  every  one  of  his  excuses  by  heart.  Go  straight 
to  the  root  of  the  evil,  and  tell  him  Puck  is  too  fat." 

''  You're  afraid  to  tell  him  yourself,  I  know  you  are,'' 
Stella  said  gleefully. 

"■  Yes,  I  am.  I  shall  hide  behind  the  window-curtain 
and  listen  to  your  discomfiture,  for  you'll  get  worsted, 
I'm  sure." 

That  evening  Mrs.  Ogilvie  wrote  to  Lord  St.  Errol : 

"  Invite  us  to  Errol  as  soon  as  you  please  ;  we  are 
quite  ready  to  go.  Stella  has  a  scheme  in  her  pretty 
head.  You  must  gain  her  confidence  very  carefully. 
She  is  as  shy  as  a  hare,  and  as  quick  to  take  fright  if 
she  tliinks  she  may  be  thwarted.  Gain  her  confidence, 
and  then I  leave  the  rest  to  you." 

Jem  was  not  in  a  good  mood  when  Miss  St.  Errol 
went  out  to  tackle  him  on  the  subject  of  Puck's  super- 
fluous flesh.  He  was  a  law  to  himself,  like  Napoleon 
the  Great  and  George  Eliot,  and  other  mighty  men  and 
women  of  valor.  Puck  (together  with  the  garden)  had 
been  in  his  charge  for  many  years,  and  Puck  still  lived 
to  tell  the  tale.  He  was  a  West  Country  man,  and  at 
the  best  of  times — that  is,  when  they  very  much  ap- 
plauded him  for  whatever  he  did  or  left  undone — he  had 
a  very  poor  opinion  of  'up-country  folk.'  So  now, 
when  Stella  said,  '  You  give  the  pony  too  much  hay, 
Jem  ;  he  can  hardly  waddle,' Jem  regarded  her  curious- 
ly out  of  the  corner  of  an  oblique  eye,  and  retorted  that 
BO  one  could  teach  him  nothing  about  horses  j  lie  knew 


Stella's  Plan.  77 

what  was  best  for  the  pony.  Hadn't  he  had  it  ever 
since  'twas  a  four-year-old  ?  and  'twould  bo  fourteen 
come  next  May. 

"  But  Puck  mustn't  have  so  much  hay,  Jem,"  ^liss 
St.  Errol  said,  sticking  to  her  point. 

"You  leave  Puck  to  me,  miss.  I  know  what's  best 
for  Puck,  and  he  knows  that  I  know  it.  Why,  as 
soon  as  he  hears  my  step  in  the  morning,  there  he  is 
poking  his  nose  against  the  stable  window." 

"  Which  you  ought  to  keep  open,  Jem,  this  hot 
weather.  I  wonder  the  poor  pony  isn't  suffocated, 
shut  up  there  in  that  stifling  stable." 

"  Keep  the  window  open — the  windou"  open  !  Why 
that  pony'd  die  if  I  put  him  in  a  draught.  I  opened 
my  bedroom  window  once,  for  the  heat  was  such  that 
I  could  scarce  breathe,  and  I've  had  the  rheumatics 
ever  since.  AVindowswas  made  to  let  ii\  the  light  and 
keep  out  the  draught,  miss  ;  and  I'd  no  more  put  Puck 
in  the  way  of  getting  his  death  o'  chill  than  I'd  put 
myself  in  it ;  "  and  Jem  turned  away,  muttering,  "  Fresh 
air  and  open  windows  and  too  much  hay  !  As  if  any- 
one could  teach  me  anything  about  horses  !" 

Stella  was  bafllcd,  but  not  beaten.  She  knew  Jfrs. 
Ogilvie  was  laughing  at  her  behind  the  curtain,  so  she 
sauntered  after  the  contumacious  Jem,  and  when  she 
overtook  him  (he  was  hoeing  mercilessly  at  a  bed  con- 
taining nothing  by  this  time)  she  said  : 

"  Now,  Jem,  look  here  :  My  horses — and  they're 
beauties — live  with  their  stable  windows  open,  exce})t 
when  there's  a  blizzard  on.  If  you'll  try  it  three  of 
these  hot  niglits  with  Puck,  I'll  give  you  this." 

She  held  up  a  little  pieoe  of  gold,  and  Jem  looked  at 
it  for  a  few  moments.     Then  he  shook  his  head. 


78  Comrades  True. 

''  Couldn't  do  it,  miss,  not  even  for  that.  There's 
many  that  would  do  it — up-country  folks  would — but 
I  ain't  like  that." 

Stella  was  losing  patience. 

"  Here  take  it/'  she  said,  tossing  him  the  half-sov- 
ereign, "  and  go  on  your  own  way  and  kill  thai:  poor 
pony  with  overstuffing  and  foul  air." 

''I  ain't  killed  'im  yet,"  Jem  said  morosely. 

But  he  pocketed  the  half-sovereign,  and  vowed  a  vow 
that  Puck  should  oiot  be  s»ubjected  to  draughts  while 
nnder  his  care.  Then  he  went  on  hoeing  the  bed  with 
nothing  in  it,  and  was  happy  in  the  conviction  that  he 
had  "got  the  better  on  the  up-country  young  lady." 

"  Well,"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  asked  when  Stella  went  in, 
"  is  Puck  still  to  live  nnder  the  shadoAv  of  ajDoplexy 
from  overfeeding,  and  of  being  asphyxiated  from  foul 
stable  air  ?" 

"  He  is,  according  to  the  conservative  Jem  ;  but 
when  tliat  gentleman  goes  to-night,  I  shall  take  the 
law  into  my  own  hands  and  nail  the  stable  window  open. 
When  he  sees  in  the  morning  how  much  fresher  the 
pony  is,  he  will  relent." 

^'Not  he,  Stella;  low  obstinacy  never  relents.  'A 
man  convinced  against  his  will  is  of  the  same  ojiinion 
still.'  I  am  afraid  yon  will  find  that  the  only  effect  of 
your  determined  action  will  be  that  Jem  will  double 
Puck's  hay,  and  stuff  up  every  crevice  there  may  be  iu 
the  stable  now." 

"I  wouldn't  stand  it  if  I  were   you." 

"  You'll  stand  many  things  when  you  are  my  age 
that  you  wouldn't  stand  now,  my  girl.  And  now  to 
dinner  with  what  appetite  we  may  after  our  defeat." 

For  many  days  Stella  was  busily  engaged  in  brisk 


Stella's  Plan.  79 

correspondence  with  various  agcuts  and  managers. 
She  was  not  a  young  lady  to  let  grass  grow  under  her 
feet  or  to  hide  her  light  behind  a  bushel  when  she  liad 
an  object  in  view.  She  had  joined  the  Actors'  Associa- 
tion, in  order  that  she  might  have  a  permanent  address, 
and  the  number  of  the  letters  that  were  forwarded  to 
her  from  there  was  legion.  She  wrote  to  every  one 
whose  name  struck  her  in  the  columns  of  the  Sfaycand 
Bra  as  being  possibly  likely  to  be  useful  to  her.  As 
to  every  one  she  told  the  triumphant  fact  that  she  had 
been  offered  the  part  of  Oriana  in  the  "Star  of  India," 
her  appeals  for  future  encouragement  v/ere  received 
witli  respect  and  answered,  even  if  not  definitely 
granted.  With  this  she  was  quite  content,  for  the  in- 
definite promises  were  numerous,  and  in  the  meantime 
she  felt  sure  that  Oriana  would  reveal  a  good  deal  of 
the  dramatic  power  which  she  felt  confident  she  pos- 
sessed. 

This  beautiful  sustaining  faith  in  herself,  which  she 
shared  in  common  with  every  other  aspirant  for  the 
stage's  honor,  kept  her  from  dwelling  overmuch  on 
what  she  was  now  teaching  herself  to  think  was  the 
degradation  of  being  nameless  and  dependent. 

It  was  quite  in  good  spirits,  therefore,  that  she  took 
leave  of  Puck  and  Jem — she  had  nailed  up  tlie  stable 
window,  and  before  seven  the  next  morning  it  was  shut 
again — and  started  with  Mrs.  Ogilvie  for  Plrrol  Castle. 

Most  of  her  life  had  been  passed  here,  for  Kose-in- 
Vale  liad  been  only  a  late-in-life  love  of  the  late  Lord  St. 
Errol's.  She  knew  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  place 
— or,  at  least,  she  thought  she  did.  St.  Errol  had  kept 
his  promise,  and  deferred  his  explorations  until  the  ar- 
rival of  his  ward. 


8o  Comrades  True, 

She  forgot  all  about  her  new  scheme  and  her  theatri- 
cal ambitions  as  soon  as  she  found  herself  back  in  the 
house  that  had  been  hers  from  babyhood.  Her  own 
rooms  were  hers  still,  unaltered  and  undisturbed. 

^'His  lordship  said  everything  was  to  be  left  exactly 
as  they've  always  been  until  you  came,  miss,"  the  house- 
keeper told  her,  and  Stella  gave  vent  to  a  low  cry  of 
delight  at  finding  herself  back  in  the  beautiful  rooms 
where  she  had  reigned  a  solitary  little  queen.  ''And 
another  thing,  miss  :  His  Lordship  hasn't  been  half 
over  the  castle  yet  ;  he  said  he  should  wait  for  you  to 
show  it  to  him." 

"  How  dear  and  kind  he  is  !  "  Stella  said,  and  then 
she  sighed.  Had  Mr.  Stanley  been  over  the  castle  yet  ? 
she  wondered,  or  had  he,  too,  waited  for  her  to  show  it 
to  him  ? 

A  feeling  of  petty  pride  forbade  her  asking,  but  she 
did  long  to  know. 

That  evening,  when  they  were  all  w^alking  in  the 
garden  that  had  always  been  Stella's  special  joy,  the  one 
she  called  the  Kingdom  of  Chrysanthemums,  because 
no  other  flowers  were  allowed  there  in  the  autumn,  St. 
Errol  dropjDed  behind  with  Mrs.  Ogilvie. 

"  Now  tell  me  :  what  is  Stella's  scheme  ?  "  he  began. 

''I  wish  her  to  tell  you  herself.  I  wish  you  to  hear 
it  first  from  her.  H  I  told  you,  I  might  unconsciously 
bias  you  one  way  or  the  other." 

"Naturally,  whatever  it  is,  I  shall  consult  you  and 
ask  for  your  advice.  It  isn't  that — she  hasn't  got  en- 
gaged, has  she  ?" 

Mrs.  Ogilvie  laughed. 

"  Indeed  it  is  nothing  of  that  kind.  Hers  is  a  very 
transparent  nature,  dear  little  soul  !  and  I  can  assure 


•  Stella's  Plan.  8i 

you,  ill  spito  of  the  admiration  she  has  excited,  that 
she  has  never  taken  the  slightest  interest  in  any  man 
but  yourself  and  Mr.  Stanley," 

He  looked  pleased  ;  even  by  moonlight  she  could  see 
that. 

**  I  wish  she  wouhl  take  more  than  an  interest  in 
Stanley,''  he  said  presently. 

*'  Perhaps  she  will  in  time,  when  he  shows  the  interest 
he  takes  in  her  a  little  more  openly." 

"  Look  at  them  now,"  St.  Errol  said  ;  ''  she  has  got 
Jock  in  her  arms,  and  Stanley  is  patting  Jock's  head 
because  it  is  resting  on  her  shoulders.  1  know.  I  have 
felt  the  same  when  I've  seen  Jock  in  ]\Irs.  Clifford's 
arms." 

**My  poor  boy  I  Haven't  you  got  over  that  yet  ?" 
Mrs.  Ogilvie  said  compassionately. 

'*  Got  over  it  I  >>o.  1  frll  in  love  with  her  thinking 
she  was  free.  I  can't  unlove  hur  l)ccause  later  on  I 
found  that  she  was  fettered.  I  saw  at  a  glance,  when 
tlie  fellow  came  to  hunt  her  uji  at  the  lodgings,  that  he 
was  a  cruel-natured  brute  as  well  as  a  dissipated  one. 
I  wonder  wliere  she  is  now  ?  " 

'*  She  has  gone  to  America  with  a  concert  company." 

**  Poor  little  darling  !  It's  hard  that  she  should  have 
to  fight  the  battle  alone.  I  have  heard  tliat  the  musical 
profession  isn't  half  as  kind  as  the  theatrical.  They'll 
get  jealous  of  her,  and  hurt  her  feelings  a  dozen  times 
a  day,  probably." 

"  Don't  take  such  a  pessimistic  view  of  her  lot,  dear 
Lord  St.  Ph'rol.  She  loves  her  art  ;  that  and  her  unde- 
filcd  conscience  will  support  her  under  all  her  dithculties 
and  trials." 

**  Love  of  art  and  a  clear  conscience  are  all  very  well 
6 


82  Comrades  True. 

in  their  way,  but  she's  a  woman,  and  I'll  stake  my  life, 
though  she  only  saw  me  to  speak  to  twice,  that  she 
cares  for  me." 

Meanwhile  Stella  and  Stanley  had  sauntered  on 
through  the  long  lines  of  chrysanthemums,  whose 
sweetly-bitter,  aromatic  fragrance  filled  the  air.  Jock 
had  wriggled  out  of  Stella's  arms,  and  was  now  exhaust- 
ing himself  in  a  vain  endeavor  to  retrieve  an  agile  cat. 
In  Jock's  place  she  now  held  a  huge  white,  loose- 
petalled  chrysanthemum  that  looked  like  a  mop  or  a 
Skye  terrier. 

"Papa  always  used  to  call  this  my  garden,"  she  was 
explaining.  "  It  was  my  fancy  to  have  only  one  sort  of 
flower  in  it  at  a  time.  In  the  spring  I  used  to  have  it 
all  daffodils  and  narcissus  ;  in  the  summer  all  geraniums, 
of  every  color,  size,  and  height  ;  and  in  the  autumn,  as 
you  see,  all  chrysanthemums.     Do  you  like  the  idea  ?" 

''I  prefer  a  greater  variety.  I  like  a  mixture  of 
flowers  best.  All  one  kind  in  one  bed  if  you  like,  but 
not  a  whole  garden  full  of  one  sort  only." 

"  I  might  have  known  that,  being  my  taste,  you 
wouldn't  approve  of  it." 

He  looked  down  at  her  brilliant  little  face,  and  in 
the  clear  moonlight  he  saw  that  it  was  quivering  and 
very  pale. 

"  AVhy  do  you  say  that  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Heaven  knows 
I  am  only  too  well  disclosed  to  think  everything  you  do 
right  and  perfect." 

'^  Are  you  ?     Then,  I  think  I'll  tell  you No,  I 

won't ;  I  must  tell  my  guardian  first.  I  owe  it  to  him, 
being  my  guardian,  to  tell  him  first." 

Stanley  felt  his  heart  grow  cold.  It  was  coming, 
then,  this  announcement  that  he  dreaded,  namely,  that 


Stella's  Plan.  83 

she,  the  sweet  star  of  his  soul,  was  engaged  to  one  of 
the  '*  fiishionable  frivolous  asses  "  whom  he  detested  with 
the  powerful  detestation  with  which  we  do  regard  the 
obnoxious  unknown. 

*<  Certainly,  if  it  is  anything  important,  anything  of 
vital  importance,  St.  Errol  is  the  first  person  to  be  told 
and  consulted." 

"  It  is  of  vital  importance  to  me,  but  I  am  a  nameless 
nobody,  and  have  no  right  to  consider  anything  vital 
that  concerns  myself  only." 

"  "Whatsoever  concerns  you  is  of  the  first  importance 
to  us — to  St,  Errol,  I  mean." 

"Oh,  Jock  has  caught  the  cat — no,  he  hasn't — and 
she  has  slipped  away  from  him.  "What  a  dear  black 
cat  I     I  want  a  black  kitten," 

"  Do  you  ?     You  shall  have  one." 

"  I  don't  want  it  just  yet.  If  I  have  it  about  the 
middle  of  October  it  will  do.  I  can  teach  a  kitten  a 
lot  of  things  in  a  fortnight,  can't  I  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  you  can.  Are  you  going  to  teach  it  parlor 
tricks  to  amuse  Mrs.  Ogilvio  with  in  the  winter  ?  " 

*'  Xo,  not  parlor  tricks — something  much  more 
serious,"  she  said. 

And  then  her  laughter  pealed  out  gleefully  ;  he  was 
80  hopelessly  at  sea  about  her  motive  for  wanting  to 
train  a  cat, 

"Stella,"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  called  out  from  the  other  side 
of  the  garden,  "  we  are  going  in  ;  don't  stay  out  and 
get  a  chill,  dear,  or  shall  I  send  you  a  cloak  ?" 

"  Don't  go  in  yet,"  Stanley  whispered. 

Hut  Stella  desired  to  punish  him  for  something — she 
was  not  quite  sure  for  what — so  she  went  in,  and  was 
ungry  with  herself  for  having  done  so  all  the  rest  of  tiio 
evening. 


CHAPTER  X. 


A  STRIKING   LIKENESS. 


Mrs.  Millett,  the  housekee2)er  at  Errol  Castle,  was 
not  the  least  fussy  or  officious.  Born  and  brought  up 
on  the  estate,,  the  weal  and  wo,  the  fortunes  and  fame, 
the  dignity  and  imjjortance,  of  the  St.  Errols  were  as 
dear  to  her  as  her  life.  But  she  had  never  obtruded  her 
solicitude  and  loyalty  upon  any  member  of  the  family ; 
iu  fact,  the  late  lord  had  reigned  alone,  and  had  no 
family  ujion  whom  anybody  could  obtrude  anything, 
and  he  himself  was  not  the  typo  of  man  to  admit  of 
easy  approach  from  any  subordinate.  Nevertheless,  he 
had  entrusted  a  secret  to  Mrs,  Millett,  or,  rather,  he  had 
permitted  her  to  share  it  with  him,  because  he  was 
nnable  to  avoid  doing  so.  This  secret  she  was  now 
bound  to  impart  to  the  new  lord  before  he  took  the 
projected  tour  of  the  castle  under  the  guidance  of  his 
ward. 

Day  after  day  since  his  arrival  she  had  intended  tell- 
ing him,  and  day  after  day  she  had  deferred  doing  so, 
simply  because  she  had  thought  it  a  matter  of  no  im- 
portance. Since  the  previous  night,  however,  her  views 
had  changed,  and  this  morning  she  sent  a  message  to 
ask  1:13  permission  to  see  him  in  the  library. 

The  library  was  a  fine  room,  lofty  and  s]iacious,  and 
84 


A  Striking  Likeness.  85 

the  well-filleil  bookcases  surrouiuled  it  on  every  side. 
There  Avas  apparently  only  one  entrance,  the  door, 
namely,  that  opened  from  the  great  hall. 

"Your  lordship  is  going  over  the  castle  with  Miss 
St.  Errol  this  morning,  she  tells  me.  She  knows  the 
castle,  but  there  are  two  rooms  which  his  late  lordship 
never  allowed  Miss  St.  Errol  to  enter  ;  indeed,  she  is 
not  even  aware  that  these  rooms  exist.  Ilis  lordship 
spent  mnch  of  his  time  in  them.     These  are  the  rooms." 

She  crossed  the  library,  and  pressed  on  what  looked 
like  the  elaborate  binding  of  an  old  tome.  The  sham 
case  and  book-bindings  slowly  slid  on  one  side,  leaving 
a  door  exposed  to  view.  This  door  she  opened,  and 
led  the  way  across  a  narrow  passage  into  a  little  sitting- 
room.  St.  Errol  followed  her,  and  as  he  did  so  he 
cried  ont,  half  in  consternation,  half  in  admiration  : 
"  Stella  !  " 

For  there  opposite  to  him  hnng  a  magnificently 
painted  portrait  of  a  woman  in  the  dress  of  thirty  years 
ago — a  woman  so  exactly  like  his  ward  tliat  it  might 
have  been  her  portrait.  At  the  foot  of  the  portrait 
there  was  a  shelf,  and  on  this  was  laid  a  wreath  and  a 
cross  of  withered   flowers. 

"Tell  me  all  you  know  about  this,  Mrs.  Millett,"  he 
asked,  and  his  heart  beat  high  with  the  hope  that  here 
was  the  clue  to  Stella's  parentage. 

"  This  is  all  I  know,  my  lord.  Ills  late  lordship  left 
here  suddenly  one  day,  saying  he  miglit  be  away  for  a 
week  or  two.  He  didn't  take  his  man  with  him,  which 
I  thought  strange,  as  he  was  very  dependent  on  his 
man.  In  a  week  he  came  back,  bringing  with  him 
Miss  Stella,  then  quite  a  little  baby,  and  this  picture. 
He  had  tliese  rooms  fitted  up — here  is   the  bedroom — 


86  Comrades  True. 

and  this  picture  hung,  but  no  one  saw  the  picture.  I 
was  the  only  person  to  enter  these  rooms  besides  him- 
self, but  when  I  came  in  a  thick  curtain  always  hung 
over  the  picture.  That  curtain  I  never  raised  for  a 
moment  until  last  night,  when  I  came  here  to  dust  and 
straighten  the  rooms,  thinking  you  might  like  to  show 
them  to  Miss  Stella.  When  I  drew  back  the  curtain  I 
thought  it  was  her  living  self  for  a  moment.  Now  I 
have  told  your  lordship  all  I  know." 

"  It  must  be  her  mother.  Keep  this  discovery  to 
yourself,  Mrs.  Millett.  Until  I  know  a  great  deal 
more  about  the  matter,  Miss  St.  Errol  must  not  hear  a 
whisper  of  it." 

"'No  one  will  hear  a  whisper  of  it  from  me,  my  lord." 

"I'm  sure  of  that.  Send  word  to  Mr.  Stanley  to 
come  to  me  in  the  library." 

When  Stanley  came — and  came  rather  unwillingly, 
for  Stella  had  just  thawed  enough  to  offer  to  walk 
down  to  the  lake  with  him — he  found  St.  Errol  in  a 
state  of  excitement  that  appeared  ridiculous  to  Stanley 
until  he  had  been  shown  the  portrait. 

''  What  do  you  think  of  it  ?  "  St.  Errol  asked,  as  he 
drew  the  curtain  aside  and  revealed  Stella. 

''It's  her  mother,  of  course,  but  who  the  deuce  was 
her  mother  that  she  should  have  had  a  shrine  made  for 
her  portrait,  while  at  the  same  time  the  portrait  was 
concealed  from  the  profane  gaze  of  any  other  mortal 
than  your  cranky  old  predecessor  ?  "  Stanley  said  dis- 
contentedly. 

He  would  not  have  cared  how  humble  Stella's  origin 
might  prove  to  be.  What  he  disliked  about  the  matter 
was  the  environment  of  mystery,  which  the  discovery 
of  this  portrait  only  deepened. 


A  Striking  Likeness.  87 

"  She  looks  like  a  lady/'  St.  Errol  put  iu  eagerly  ; 
"  in  fact,  our  dear  little  Stella  cau't  be  anything  but 
thoroughbred." 

"  She  looks  like  a  lovely  woman  ■svell  dressed  in  the 
hideous  dress  of  that  period.  It  reminds  me  of  that 
awful  picture  of  the  Empress  Eugenie  surrounded  by 
crinolines  and  the  ladies  of  her  Court,  by  Winter- 
halter." 

**  I  shall  have  a  search  now  for  letters  or  diaries  or 
something  that  may  let  a  little  light  in  on  the  case," 
St.  Errol  said,  beginning  to  tug  away  at  the  handles  of 
some  locked  drawers  in  a  writing-table  as  he  spoke. 

''  You  had  better  let  sleeping  dogs  lie.  The  poor  old 
fellow  evidently  wished  to  keep  it  dark  while  he  was 
alive.  "Why  should  you  try  and  unearth  it  now  he's 
dead?" 

''I  wish  I  had  brought  Wilkins  "  (Wilkins  was  the 
late  lord's  valet)  ;  '•  he  would  know  wlierc  the  keys  are. 
Ass  I  was  to  leave  him  at  Rose-in-Vale  !  I'll  wire  to 
him  to  come  at  once." 

"Well,  I'm  no  use  to  you,  and  as  Miss  St.  Errol  is 
going  to  stroll  down  to  the  lake  with  me,  I'll  be  olf." 

*' Don't  say  anything  about  this  to  her,  Stanley." 

"  Do  you  take  me  for  a  congenital  idiot  ?  Do  you 
mean  to  spend  your  whole  morning  in  these  cheerful 
apartments  ?     Poof  !  I  feel  mildewed  myself  already." 

*' Nonsense  !  the  skylight's  open.     But  I  won't  keep 

you." 

"  No  ;  I  am  sure  you  won't,"  Stanley  said,  as  he 
went  oil  choerfully  to  rejoin  ^[iss  St.  Errol. 

liut  when  he  rejoined  her  ^fi.ss  St.  Errol's  mood  had 
changed,  and  his  cheerfulness  vanished.  Mrs.  Ogilvie, 
for  once  iu  her  life,  had  been  indiscreet.     She  had  ex- 


88  Comrades  True. 

pressed  pleasure  when  Stella  told  lier  of  the  projected 
stroll  down  to  the  lake. 

"  Now,  why  do  yon  say  yon're  '  glad  '  ?  Why  should 
you  be  glad  that  Mr.  Stanley  is  going  to  walk  to  the 
lake  and  back  in  my  company  ?  If  you  think  it's  a 
condescension  on  his  part  I  won't  go." 

"  Oh,  Stella,  Stella  !  you  dear  pugnacious  little  girl  ! 
Can't  yon  see  that  Mr.  Stanley  looks  upon  it  as  an  act 
of  condescension  on  your  part  that  you  allow  him  to 
be  your  escort  ?  " 

"  He  can't  do  that.  I'm  a  nameless  nobody.  I  wish 
—I  wish " 

''  What,  dear  ?  " 

"That  I  had  never  met  Mr.  Stanley,  that  I  had  never 
been  born,  that  I  could  get  away  from  this  place  which 
I  have  no  right  to  regard  as  my  home.  I'll  tell  my 
guardian  to-day  that  I  shall  break  my  heart  unless  I 
get  away  at  once  and  begin  to  work  for  myself." 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  Stanley  came  back  to  her. 
He  saw  that  a  storm  was  raging,  and  tried  to  ignore  it. 

"  Now  for  the  lake.  Miss  St.  Errol.  I  hope  we  may 
find  a  few  water-lilies." 

He  picked  up  his  cap  and  pipe  and  tobacco-pouch  as 
he  was  speaking,  making  quite  a  little  business  of  it  in 
his  desire  to  evade  the  stormy  blue  eyes  that  were  so 
angrily  trying  to  meet  his. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  the  lake,"  she  began  ;  then  a  sob 
choked  her,  and  she  had  to  pause  for  a  few  moments. 

He,  still  looking  away  from  her  (poor  fellow  !  it  cost 
him  some  expenditure  of  moral  strength  to  do  it),  tried 
to  ease  the  situation  by  saying  : 

"  I  don't  think  there's  any  chance  of  rain.  You  had 
much  better  come.     It  will  be  lovely  on  the  lake," 


A  Striking  Likeness.  89 

"'  I  can't  go  on  the  lake.  I  want  to  see  Lord  St.  Errol 
at  once — at  once!  He  is  my  guardian.  I'm  a  nice 
thing  to  be  *  guarded,'  nameless  waif  that  I  am.  I " 

Again  a  hardly-suppressed  sob  choked  her  utterance. 

"  St.  Errol  is  in  the  library.  Shall  I  take  you  to 
him  ?  "  Stanley  asked  deliberately. 

His  heart  was  aching  for  the  poor,  proud,  passionate 
little  creature,  but  he  knew  that  any  sign  of  sympathy 
would  be  wasted  upon  her  now. 

*'  No,  thank  you  ;  I  will  go  to  him  alone.  Why 
should  you  take  me  to  him  ?  You  are  not  burdened 
with  the  responsibility  of  me  as  he  is,  poor  fellow  ! 
How  he  must  hate  being  botlicred  witli  me  !  how  he 
must  despise  me  for  limjoly  letting  myself  remain  a 
bother  to  him  I  " 

^L's.  Ogilvie  signaled  to  Stanley  to  leave  the  room. 
When  he  had  gone,  she  said  : 

**  Stella,  dear  child,  you  must  not  go  to  your  guar- 
dian in  this  hysterical  state.  He  would  rightly  put  his 
veto  on  your  desire  to  go  on  the  stage  if  he  saw  you  in 
this  uncontrollable  state  of  passionate  emotion  about 
nothing." 

Stella  sobbed. 

"  I  am  an  old  woman,"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  went  on,  *'and 
I  don't  ask  for  many  pleasures  in  life  ;  but  this  one  I 
do  ask,  and  that  is  that  I  have  a  drive  round  the  Peak 
district  this  afternoon.  We  can't  go  very  far  to-day, 
but  we  can  manage  Kinder  Scout,  aiid  that's  the  high- 
est point  of  the  Peak.  To-morrow  we  will  go  to  Chats- 
worth  an.l  Iladdon  Hall." 

'To-morrow  I  may  be  far  fruni  here,''  Stella  said  in 
tones  of  Wn. 

"  Oh,  nonsense,  dear  diihl  I     ^'mi   can't  dt>   tilings 


90  Comrades  True. 

in  such  a  hnrry.  Think  of  what  a  wealth  of  liealth  you 
lay  in  by  roaming  through  this  wild,  beautiful  district. 
You'll  want  all  your  health  and  strength,  you  know,  for 
your  first  campaign  on  the  stage." 

"  I  know  Chatsworth  and  Haddon  Hall  well ;  I've 
been  there  a  dozen  times." 

"  But  I  have  never  been  to  either  of  these  places 
once,"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  said  good-temperedly.  "  You'll  have 
your  work  cut  out,  dear,  to-morrow  in  showing  me 
the  lions,  the  window  through  which  Dorothy  Vernon 
escaped  to  meet  her  lover " 

"  That's«a  trumped-up  story  ;  I  don't  believe  a  word 
of  it,"  Stella  interrupted  enthusiastically.  "  She  mar- 
ried a  Manners  !  Why  should  she  have  run  away  to 
marry  him  ?  " 

"Why,  indeed  !  But  girls  do  foolish  things  in  love 
and  pique  at  times." 

'•'  Ye-es." 

"  Now,  my  dear  little  chatelaine,  what  do  you  pro- 
pose for  to-morrow  ?  Shall  we  take  a  luncheon  hamper 
Avith  us,  or  shall  we  lunch  at  the  Rowsley  Inn  ?  I  read 
that  it's  a  lovely  one." 

'^  I  won't  give  an  order  for  a  hamper ;  I  won't  give 
another  order  in  this  place.  I've  no  right  to  be  here  ; 
I'm  hei'e  on  sufferance  merely.  My  guardian,  poor 
fellow  !  must  hate  the  sight  of  me." 

As  she  spoke  she  crejst  across  the  room,  flung  herself 
on  her  knees  by  Mrs.  Ogilvie's  side,  and  buried  her 
face  in  that  lady's  lap. 

"  I'm  so  miserable  !  "  she  cried.  "  What  have  I  done 
that  I  should  be  so  miserable  ?  " 

"You  are  not  miserable,  Stella,"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  said, 
determining  to  speak  the  cold  truth.     "  You  are  in  a 


A  Striking  Likeness.  91 

passion  because  yon  cannot  adjust  life  to  the  angles  you 
are  making  for  yourself.  You  are  a  highly-prized  girl, 
and  you  ougiit  to  be  a  happy  one — instead  of  which  you 
are  setting  up  a  fictitious  ill-fate  for  yourself.  You  are 
ungrateful  to  your  guardian  and  to  me." 

"  Xo,  no,  no  ! "  Stella  wailed. 

"Yes,  YOU  are  ;  and  you  are  brutal  to  Mr.  Stanley." 

"What!" 

"  I  said  you  are  brutal  to  Mr.  Stanley,  dear,  and  I 
meant  it.  For  the  last  day  or  two  you  have  been  try- 
ing to  make  him  feel  that  you  regard  yourself,  and 
consider  that  he  regards  yon,  as  on  a  lower  social  plat- 
form than  he  is  on  himself.  Tliat  to  a  man  of  his 
caliber  is  brutality." 

Stella  flushed  rosy  red  witli  pleasure. 

"Do  you  think  he  feels — like  that?"  she  asked 
demurely. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  do  think  it.  Xow  put  on  your 
hat  and  go  down  to  the  lake  with  him." 

"  Of  course,  if  you  tell  me  to  I  must  obey  you  ;  l)ut 
I  would  rather  go  and  have  it  out  with  my  guardian  at 
once.  The  longer  I  jtut  olT  telling  him  what  I  mean  to 
do,  tlic  harder  the  telling  will  be." 

"  Well,  my  dear  child,  the  statement  of  your  inten- 
tion won't  take  you  very  long.  You  have  only  to  say 
that  you  are  not  going  to  bo  guided  by  any  one,  that 
yon  are  ambitious  of  making  a  name  for  yourself  on 
the  stagC;  and  that  you  don't  care  how  much  you  hurt 
the  feelings  of  your  best  friends.  You  can  say  it  all  in 
two  minutes." 

"I'll  say  it  after  luncheon  ;  I'll  go  down  to  the  lako 
now." 

She  spoke  quite  meekly,  and  when  she  found  Stanley 


92  Comrades  True. 

on  the  terrace,  her  mood  was  so  gentle  that  he  hardly 
knew  her. 

"  I  want  you  to  help  me  make  out  a  program  for 
a  trip  to-morr,ow/'  she  began.  ''  See  !  I  have  brought 
a  pencil,  and  we'll  jot  down  our  route.  I  should  like 
to  drive  all  the  way.  That  would  be  the  best  plan, 
wouldn't  it  ?  " 

*'  Certainly  it  would/'  he  agreed  promptly. 

He  had  not  the  faintest  idea  where  she  proposed 
driving  to,  but  when  she  consulted  him  with  that  smile 
and  in  that  tone  of  voice,  he  would  have  agreed  to 
driving  to  Jericho  with  her. 

They  spent  a  sunny  hour  on  the  lake  without  a  single 
jar.  Once  or  twice  she  was  on  the  point  of  telling  him 
of  the  scheme  that  was  so  important  in  her  own  eyes, 
but  a  sense  of  loyalty  to  her  guardian  checked  her. 

"  He  must  be  the  first  to  hear  of  it,"  she  said  to  her- 
self ;  and  her  spirit  swelled  within  her  as  largely  as  if 
the  "  it"  in  question  had  been  the  fate  of  nations. 

At  luncheon  the  projected  driving  trip  was  fully  dis- 
cussed. They  were  within  easy  driving  distance  of 
Eowsley  ;  for  though  Castle  Errol  stood  in  Cheshire, 
its  grounds  and  lands  stretched  far  into  Derbyshire. 

Stella's  experience  and  knowledge  of  the  county  came 
in  usefully  at  this  juncture. 

"  We'll  drive  to  the  Peacock  at  Eowsley  and  lunch 
there  and  bait  the  horses,  and  when  they  are  rested 
we'll  go  on  to  Haddon  Hall  and  Chatsworth.  It  will 
be  a  longish  drive,  so  we  had  better  go  four-in-hand," 
Stella  suggested.  "  Those  who  agree  with  me  hold  up 
their  hands." 

They  all  held  up  their  hands,  and  Stanley  asked : 

"Who  is  to  drive?" 


A  Strikiiv^'  Likeness.  93 

*'Lord  St.  EiTol,  of  course/'  Stella  said  nimbly. 

"I  never  drove  a  pair  of  horses  in  my  life,  much  less 
four,"  St.  Errol  protested.  '*  I  should  bo  landing  you 
in  the  "Wye  or  the  Derwent.  We  had  better  be  con- 
tented with  a  pair,  I  think,  and  let  the  coachman 
drive." 

But  this  sounded  tame  after  what  she  had  proposed. 

"  Papa  taught  me  to  drive  four-iu-haud.  He  thought 
I  handled  my  horses  well.     Will  you  trust  me  ?" 

*'  I  had  much  rather  trust  you  than  myself,"  St. 
Errol  told  her. 

•'  I  know  the  horses  that  must  be  put  together.  It 
will  be  delicious  !  Do  make  haste  and  linish  luncheon 
and  come  out  to  the  stables,  and  I'll  show  you  the 
horses." 

She  was  so  impatient  to  taste  the  pleasure  of  handling 
four  horses  again  that  the  scheme  which  had  been 
dominating  her  for  some  time  receded  into  the  limbo  of 
forgotten  things. 

The  impetus  of  her  ardent  desire  carried  all  before 
it.  St.  Errol  feared  he  was  doing  an  unwise  thing  in 
agreeing  to  let  her  drive  four  spirited  horses  over  a 
rough  and  hilly  country.  Stanley  did  not '' fear,"  he 
"knew  "  it  was  an  unwise  thing,  but  he  would  not  risk 
the  continuance  of  the  reign  of  peace  which  Stella  had 
inaugurated  by  giving  his  opinion. 

"I  hope  the  horses  are  very  quiet,"  Mrs.  Ogilvie 
said  plaintively. 

*'  Well,  they  are  not  exactly  lambs,  but  they  have 
lovely  mouths  and  manners.  I  understand  tlicin,  and 
they  understand  ine.^' 

"  Clever  liorses  !  "  Stanley  said,  meeting  her  merrily 
defiant  glance  with  a  sad  one. 


CHAPTEE  XI. 


OH   THE  ROAD. 


Slella  was  quite  at  home  in  the  stables,  and  the  others 
were  well  contented  to  surrender  their  judgment  to  hers 
unquestioningly.  This  they  did  as  much  from  igno- 
rance of  the  matter  under  deliberation  as  from  the  weak 
desire  they  all  had  to  defer  to  and  please  the  girl  who 
felt  her  forlorn  and  nameless  position  so  keenly, 

"  I  hope  you  are  all  enjoying  the  prospect  of  the  drive 
as  much  as  I  am,"  she  said,  in  a  tone  that  demanded 
sympathy,  when  she  had  decided  on  the  steady-going 
wheelers  and  the  rather  more  sprightly  leaders. 

"  I  hope  that  the  roads  are  not  very  hilly,  and  that 
the  horses  are  very  quiet,"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  suggested. 

"  I  could  drive  over  these  roads  in  the  dark,  I 
believe  ;  and  as  for  the  horses,  they  know  and  like  me 
as  well  as  I  know  and  like  them,"  Stella  answered  jaun- 
tily. Then  she  ordered  out  a  sober,  not  too  high,  wag- 
onette, to  be  looked  over  in  readiness  for  the  morrow's 
excursion,  and  having  made  these  preparations,  she 
was  as  gay  as  a  child,  and  quite  forgot  the  misery  and 
discontent  Avhicli  had  been  oppressing  her  of  late. 

Their  intention  of  going  for  a  drive  this  same  after- 
noon was  frustrated  by  the  arrival  of  several  callers  on 
94 


On  the  Ro:ul.  95 

Mrs.  Ogilvie  and  lier  young  cluirge,  ]\riss  St.  Errol. 
Hitherto  the  girl  had  been  so  jealously  kept  apart  from 
social  intercourse  with  the  neighborhood  that  it  had 
fallen  into  the  error  of  supposing  her  to  be  a  spoilt 
young  half  savage.  It  was,  therefore,  with  surprise 
(not  in  all  cjises  of  a  pleasant  nature)  that  they  found  a 
girl  whose  previous  high  culture  had  enabled  her  to 
bring  herself  up  to  date  in  the  best  acceptation  of  the 
phrase  during  her  brief  experience  of  London  life. 

Among  these  callers  a  delightful  couple  of  elderly 
people  called  Bentick  preeminently  pleased  Stella.  It 
was  evident  to  every  one  of  the  Castle  Errol  people  that 
they  had  not  come  out  of  curiosity,  but  out  of  real 
courtesy  and  kindness.  They  were  what  they  called  in 
that  country  ''quite  near  neighbors."  That  is,  their 
house — they  did  not  speak  of  it  as  their  *' place'' — was 
only  six  miles  distant  from  Castle  Errol.  Yet  they  had 
never  p:^sed  the  precincts  of  the  latter  place  before 
this  day,  for  the  late  Lord  St.  Errol  had  reigned  tlicre 
fifty  years,  and  during  the  whole  of  that  time  had  kept 
his  nearest  neighbors  at  bay. 

But  the  Benticks  were  too  kind-hearted,  too  innately 
tactful  and  courteous,  to  dwell  upon  this  fact.  Tiiey 
were  simply  cordial  to  the  newcomers,  without  casting 
any  reflections  upon  the  one  gone  by. 

**  It  is  good  to  see  so  much  young  life  about  the 
place,"  Mrs.  Bentick  said,  with  dear,  old  ladylike  con- 
fidence. *'  We  have  no  children  of  our  own,  but  wc 
have  a  very  dear  nephew,  who  is  with  us  very  often. 
He  has  always  wished  to  see  youth  established  here,  and 
now  ids  wish  will  be  gratified.  Are  your  nei)hews 
keen  sportsmen  ?  " 

'•  Tliey  are  not  my  nephews.     I  never  saw  or  knew 


96  Comrades  True. 

aiiytliing  about  them  until  Lord  St.  Errol's  lawyer, 
who  is  a  great  friend  of  mine,  asked  me  to  take  charge  of 
Lord  St.  Errol's  ward." 

"Judging  from  her  frank,  sweet  good  young  face,  you 
must  hnd  your  charge  a  j)leasant  one,"  Mrs.  Bentick 
said,  looking  so  tenderly  at  the  back  of  Stella's  head 
that  the  girl  was  magnetized,  apparently,  for  she  looked 
round  and  gave  a  friendly  smile  to  the  lady  who  was 
discussing  her. 

"  So  pleasant  that  I  wish  she  were  my  very  own 
daughter,  or  that  I  had  a  son  who  could  make  her  my 
daughter-in-/a?y  as  well  as  in  love.  But  I  have  no  son, 
and  in  time  I  feel  that  Stella  will  drift  away  from  me. 
She  will  make  other  ties,  she  will  take  up  other  duties." 

"  She  will  never  drift  away  from  any  one  who  has 
loved  her  and  whom  she  has  loved."  There  was  gentle 
vehemence  in  the  way  Mrs.  Bentick  said  this,  and 
Stanley  standing  vear  her,  heard  the  words. 

"You  are  right.     She  is  very  stanch." 

"  And  she  will  never  be  stanch  to  the  wrong  person." 
Mrs.  Bentick  had  her  kindliest  glance  bent  on  Stanley, 
to  whom  she  intuitively  felt  it  would  be  well  that  the 
girl  in  whom  she  had  taken  a  sudden  interest  should 
be  loyal  and  stanch. 

The  Benticks  and  the  people  who  had  come  in  con- 
temporaneously with  them  were  gone.  But  others 
Hocked  in  or  straggled  in  as  the  case  might  be  until 
monotony  prevailed,  especially  for  Stella.  Some  of  the 
visitors  put  leading  questions  to  her  about  her  past  life 
at  Errol  Castle.  Some  of  them  (these  vi^ere  the  younger 
ones)  were  rather  eager  in  their  inquiries  as  to  wliatshe 
thought  when  she  found  her  new  guardian  was  such  a 
young  man.     Others  made  overtures  of  sudden  friend- 


On  the   Road.  97 

ship  towards  her.     But  she  remained  her  little   self- 
possessed  self,  neither  bewildered  nor  elated. 

**■  Tliat  girl  h:i5  stamina.  She  will  grow  into  a  splendid 
woman,"  Mrs.  Bentick  said  to  licr  husband  as  they  drove 
home. 

lie  nodded  assent.  "  But  she'll  have  sorrow  before 
she  does  that,"  he  said  gravely. 

**  My  dear  John,  why  suggest  a  gloomy  future  for 
that  bright  young  thing — loved,  cared  for,  and  protect- 
ed as  she  is  ?  '' 

*'  I  can  always  say  what  I  mean,  but  I  can't  always 
put  what  1  think  into  words,"  he  replied.  "  Love,  care, 
and  protection  can't  avert  sorrow  if  it  is  to  be  our  por- 
tion. ' ' 

'*  I  wisli ■'  Mrs.  Bentick  began  ;  then  she  checked 

herself,  and  no  more  was  said  about  Stella  just  then. 
****** 

"  We  will  have  breakfast  at  eight  to-morrow,  and 
start  directly  after  it,"  Stella  ordained  before  they 
separated  that  night.  ''I  am  sure  I  shall  dream  I  am 
handling  the  reins  to-niglit.  You  are  kind,  Lord  St. 
Errol,  to  give  me  this  pleasure." 

She  said  this  so  gratefully  that  St.  Errol  felt  as  if  he 
could  let  her  drive  eight-in-hand  had  slie  demanded  to 
do  so.     But  all  he  said  was  : 

"Kind  I  Oh,  nonsense  I  It's  my  duty  to  give  you 
all  the  hajipiness  lean.  You  forget  I'm  your  guardian. 
But  why  do  you  call  me  *  Lord  '  St.  Errol  ?  " 

"  Just  because  I  do  remember  that  you  are  my  guar- 
dian and  that  I  must  show  you  pro])er  res])ect.  (Jood 
night,  Mrs.  Ogilvie."  She  kissed  Mrs.  Ogilvic  as  she 
spoke.     "Good  night,  all — I  am  so  happy  !" 

The  morning  was  a  glorious  autumnal   one,  the  air 
7 


^8  Comrades  True. 

crisp,  the  atmosphere  so  clear  that  grim  Kindersecht, 
twenty  miles  distant,  looked  quite  near.  It  was  all  up- 
hill work,  as  far  as  the  road  was  concerned,  for  the  first 
few  miles,  and  the  horses  under  the  guidance  of  those 
firm  little  hands  went  along  with  blameless  steadiness. 
Then  they  got  into  a  more  undulating  country,  and  on 
the  level  the  horses  began  to  pull  in  a  way  that  made 
Stella's  face  flush  with  the  strain  of  keeping  them  in. 

"  I'll  give  them  their  heads  going  up  the  next  hill/' 
she  said,  half  looking  round  at  Mrs.  Ogilvie,  who  was 
trembling  in  the  body  of  the  wagonette. 

"•'  Hadn't  you  better  let  the  coachman  take  your  jjlace 
for  a  time,  dear  ?  I'm  sure  you  are  overtired,"  said  Mrs. 
Ogilvie. 

*'  Give  up  the  reins  ?  Oh  no  !  "  Stella  was  saying, 
when  the  sprightly  young  leaders  made  a  sudden  dash 
forward,  and  compelled  their  more  sober-minded  breth- 
ren behind  them  to  follow  suit.  "  We  shall  soon  be  oJff 
the  level,  and  there  is  a  nice  stiff  hill  at  the  end  of  it 
which  will  tone  down  the  spirits  of  our  friends  in  front." 

She  explained  this  to  St.  Errol,  who  was  by  her  side, 
wishing  with  all  his  heart  that  he  had  entrusted  the 
driving  to  the  trusty  skilled  old  coachman  whom  he 
had  insisted  should  accompany  them. 

"  There's  a  bull  standing  on  that  low  hedge  on  the 
right  ;  I  hope  he  won't  bellow  as  we  pass  him,"  he  said. 

She  laughed. 

''  No  fear  !  We  shall  pass  him  too  quickly  for  him  to 
get  his  bellow  out." 

The  bull,  however,  rigidly  as  he  stood,  was  quietly 
lashing  himself  into  a  rage,  and  as  the  leaders  came 
abreast  of  him  he  gave  vent  to  a  brief  bellow  and 
stamped  his  foot. 


On  tlie   Road.  99 

At  this  the  horses  simply  Hew,  and  tlie  wagonette 
rocked  from  side  to  side.  ]iut  .Stelhi  proved  herself 
equal  to  the  occasion.  She  kept  them  straight,  and 
after  giving  another  mile  at  what  was  a  heart-sickening 
and  nerve-thrilling  pace  to  Mrs.  Ogilvie,  they  came  to 
the  hill  she  had  promised  them  and  suhsided  into  a 
gentle  trot. 

"  Three  or  four  miles  more,  and  we  shall  be  at  Chats- 
worth,"  she  told  them. 

"  How  thankful  I  shall  be  to  be  there  !  I  hope  Lord 
St.  Errol  will  either  insist  on  tlic  coachman  driving  us 
home,  or  else  make  us  all  go  home  by  train.  I  shall  for 
one,"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  whispered  to  Stanley. 

'*  Look  at  the  color  left  on  those  hanging  woods 
still,  and  actually,  late  as  it  is,  there  is  heath  in  the 
hedges." 

Stella  called  attention  to  these  beauties  so  rapturously 
that  ^frs.  Ogilvie,  though  she  was  nearly  blind  with 
fear,  tried  to  look  at  the  woods  and  the  hedges,  but  she 
saw  nothing. 

Stella,  on  the  contrary,  had  eyes  for  everything. 

*'  We  shall  pass  such  a  dear  old  black-and-white  farm- 
house presently  ;  it's  on  the  Iladdon  Hall  Estate,  and 
they  breed  a  lot  of  peacocks  there.  Such  lovely  snow- 
wliite  ones,  as  well  as  the  gorgeous  colored  ones." 

**  Why  do  they  breed  peacocks,  nasty  noisy  things  ?  " 
Mrs.  Ogilvie  asked.  She  folt  it  was  quite  possible  that 
the  peacocks  might  screech  and  frighten  tbc  horses,  as 
the  bull  had  done  by  his  btdlow,  into  running  away 
again. 

*' A  peacock  is  the  crest  of  the  Manners  family. 
We'll  put  the  horses  up  at  .Kdensor  and  Avalk  on  to 
Chatsworth  ;  it's  only  half  a  mile  from  Edensor,  and  I 


100  Comrades  True. 

think  we  are  equal  to  walking  that  distance,"  Stella 
arranged. 

"  I  shall  be  thankful  to  do  so,"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  confessed, 
"  but  I  thought  we  were  to  put  up  at  The  Peacock  at 
Rowsley." 

'*  We  are  to  go  there  after  we  have  thoroughly  done 
Chatsworth.  Not  that  one  can  ever  thoroughly  do 
Chatsworth,  it  is  so  vast,  and  I  wonder  if  the  Duke  and 
Duchess  know  their  way  all  over  it.  There  is  the  farm- 
house I  told  you  of,  and  there  are  four  peacocks  on  the 
wall." 

"  Let  us  trust  they  will  be  quiet  as  Ave  pass,"  Mrs. 
Ogilvie  murmured,  and  the  trust  was  rewarded  ;  the 
peacocks  maintained  a  courteous  silence,  merely  spread- 
ing their  tails  out  for  the  admiration  tliey  felt  was  those 
tails'  due. 

As  they  pulled  up  at  the  Edensor  Hotel,  an  open 
carriage  drawn  by  a  sturdy  pair  of  horses,  and  driven 
by  a  man  of  strikingly  aristocratic  appearance,  moved 
out  of  their  way,  and  presently  out  of  this  carriage 
stepped  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bentick. 

"  If  we  had  known  you  were  coming,  and  had  agreed 
to  meet  you  here,  we  couldn't  have  timed  the  meeting 
more  opportunely,"  Mrs.  Bentick  said  delightedly. 

''Now  that  we  have  met,  let  us  join  forces,"  said 
Lord  St.  Errol.  "  I  suppose  you  are  bound  for  Chats- 
worth as  well  as  ourselves  ?  " 

"  That's  our  bourn.     Where  is  Basil,  my  dear  ?  " 

Mr.  Bentick  was  the  speaker,  and  his  wife  answered 
him  : 

"  He  has  gone  to  look  after  the  horses  ;  you  know  he 
never  neglects  tlieni." 

"  We  are  speaking  of  my  nei^hew  ;  he  arrived  unex- 


On   the    Road.  loi 

pectedly  last  uight.  His  regiment  is  ordered  to  tlio 
front,  and  lie  sails  in  a  fortniglit  for  Xatal." 

Stella's  eyes  kindled  as  she  listened  to  this. 

"  How  I  wish  I  knew  anything  abont  nursing  I  I'd 
go  to  the  front,  too,  if  I  did,"  she  said  so  enthusiasti- 
cally that  Stanley  wished  the  new  arrival  was  off  to  the 
front  in  an  hour  instead  of  in  a  fortnight. 

Just  then  the  young  soldier  came  round,  joined  them, 
and  was  formally  introduced  to  the  whole  party  as  ''  My 
nephew,  Basil  Bentick,"  by  his  adoring  uncle. 

Then  tliey  started  for  Chatsworth. 


CHAPTEE  XII. 

A  HAPPY  DAT  ? 

The  two  elderly  ladies  brought  up  the  rear,  and 
Stanley  attached  himself  to  them.  Naturally,  Lord  St. 
Errol  and  Mr.  Bentick,  whose  estates  adjoined  each 
other,  walked  on  together,  speaking  of  the  thousand 
and  one  things  which  land-owners  always  find  to  talk 
about.  So  it  fell  out  that  the  young  soldier  who  had 
just  been  ordered  to  the  front  was  Stella's  escort. 

For  a  minute  or  two  she  was  disappointed  at  this 
arrangement,  and  looked  the  chagrin  she  felt. 

Then  she  reminded  herself  that  Stanley  had  brought 
it  about  by  falling  behind,  and  she  determined  to  let 
him  see  that  she  enjoyed  the  society  of  the  newcomer. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  longing  to  be  off  ?  "  she  began. 

''  I  am,  I  applied  to  go  out  with  the  first  of  our 
fellows  who  were  to  go  to  the  front,  but  I  wasn't  lucky 
enough  to  be  one  of  those  selected.  But  there'll  be  a 
deal  more  fighting  before  the  affair  is  over,  so  I  hope  to 
be  in  the  thick  of  it,  after  all." 

"  I  understand.  I  wish  I  could  go,  too,  as  a  Red 
Cross  nurse  ?  " 

"  Do  you  ?  You  would  find  the  work  hard  and  the 
scenes  heartrending." 

"  Other  women  have  to  do  the  hard  work  and  face 

102 


A  Happy  Day?  103 

the  heartrending  scenes.  At  any  rate,  I  slionkl  be 
doing  some  good  with  my  life.  At  present  I  am  .sy  nsc- 
less — so  very,  very  nseless." 

He  longed  to  tell  her  that  her  youth  and  beauty  were 
useful,  inasmucii  as  they  gave  pleasure  to  every  one  who 
saw  her.  But  she  was  in  a  serious  mood,  far  too  much 
in  earnest  for  any  man  of  good  taste  to  utter  words  that 
sounded  like  flattery." 

"  Have  you  ever  heen  in  battle,  Captain  Bentick  ?  " 

"  I've  been  ia  some  small  affairs — what  my  young 
brother  calls  '  little  wars' — hut  never  in  anything  like 
this  gigantic  Transvaal  business." 

He  did  not  go  on  to  tell  her  that  in  one  of  those 
"little  wars"  of  which  he  spoke  so  lightly  he  had  so 
distinguished  himself  by  personal  gallantry  in  the  field 
that  he  had  won  the  D.  S.  0. 

"  I've  never  read  a  description  of  a  battle  that  brought 
it  vividly  before  me  until  I  began  reading  about  this 
one.  Now  1  almost  seem  to  see  what's  going  on,  don't 
you  ?  '' 

His  eyes  shot  fire  as  he  replied  in  a  low  voice  : 

"  I  do  ;  I  see  it  all  so  vividly  that  I  feel  IM  like  to 
face  a  hundred  Boers  single-handed  this  minute,  and 
show  them  what  an  Englishman  can  do  when  his  blood 
is  up  at  insults  offered  to  our  Queen  and  country." 

"Do  you  think  tlic  Boerd  will  l)e  beaten?"  she 
asked  a  little  timidly. 

The  ardor  of  the  young  soldier  seemed  to  her  so 
grand  a  tiling  tliat  she  felt  (piite  humble  and  insignifi- 
cant beside  him. 

"  'I'hcy  must  and  shall  be  beaten.  Every  Briton — 
aye,  and  every  Colonial,  too — vows  that,"  he  said,  with 
rapid,    griui   dctermiuatiun.       "  You  should   see,"  ho 


104  Comrades  True. 

went  on,  "  what  a  grand  send-off  every  regiment  gets 
wherever  they  start  from  or  embark.  Each  soldier 
feels  that  he  carries  the  heart  and  the  trust  of  the 
nation  with  him." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  a  send-off/'  she  said  eagerly. 
"  What  a  spirit-stirring  scene  it  must  be  !  " 

"  It  is,  on  every  side.  Those  who  are  going,  and 
those  who  are  seeing  them  go,  lash  themselves  into 
such  a  state  of  enthusiasm  as  no  other  scene  evokes." 

"  What  regiment  are  you  in  ?  "  she  asked. 

He  told  her  : 

"  The  Eighty th." 

"  Where  do  you  sail  from  ?  " 

"  Southampton.  I  wish  it  was  nearer.  Perhaps  1 
might  be  able  to  induce  you  to  come  and  see  us  off 
with  your  friend  Mrs.   Ogilvie  ?  " 

"  The  distance  is  nothing.  If  they — if  my  guardian, 
Lord  St.  Errol,  will  let  me  go,  Mrs.  Ogilvie  would  take 
me  in  a  minute.  It  must  be  a  sight  !  I  feel  I  must  see 
it  !" 

"  My  uncle  and  aunt  are  coming  to  see  the  send-off, 
and  wish  me  God-speed.  She  will  cry,  I  know,  yet  she 
wouldn't  hold  up  a  finger  to  keep  me  back." 

"  I  shouldn't  cry,  however  much  I  cared,"  Stella  said 
proudly. 

"  You  ought  to  be  a  soldier's  daughter." 

He  had  been  on  the  brink  of  saying  a  "  soldier's 
wife,"  but  he  checked  and  corrected  himself  jnst  in 
time.  Perhaps  she  guessed  this,  for  her  fair  little  face 
flushed  deeply,  and  it  was  with  an  air  of  relief  that  she 
said  : 

''  The  entrance  is  lovely,  isn't  it  ?  We  will  wait  for 
your  aunt  and  Mrs.  Ogilvie.     I  want  to  hear  what  Mrs. 


A  Happy  Day  ?  105 

Ogilvie  will  say  when  she  gets  into  the  conservatory. 
Of  course,  you  know  it  well  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  know  it  well,"  he  said  absently  ;  and  then 
the  others  came  up,  and  the  whole  party  went  through 
the  beautiful  iron  gates  together,  and  found  themselves 
within  the  precincts  of  the  Palace  of  the  Peak. 

To  every  one  who  has  seen  Chatsworth  any  description 
of  its  magnificence  would  read  tame  and  guide-booky. 
To  every  one  who  has  not  seen  the  superb  structure,  and 
the  priceless  works  of  art  and  beauty  it  contains,  au 
attempt  to  give  a  word-picture  of  them  would  read  like 
a  ridiculous  bit  of  romance.  Like  Cleoj^atra,  Chats- 
worth  "  baffles  all  description." 

Stella,  to  whom  the  place  was  perfectly  familiar, 
walked  through  it  as  one  in  a  dream  that  day.  She 
saw  nothing,  or,  rather,  she  saw  nothing  with  under- 
standing or  interest.  Her  thoughts  were  divided  be- 
tween Stanley  and  the  glory  and  havoc  of  war. 

It  hurt  her  that  Stanley  should  resolutely  avoid  her 
as  he  did.  At  the  same  time,  she  had  a  faint  and  un- 
defined sensation  of  gratification  about  the  cause  of 
that  avoidance.  It  was  jealousy,  she  felt  intuitively. 
Painful  as  his  studied  coldness  was  to  her,  the  pain  was 
lessened  by  the  feeling  that  he  cared  enough  for  her  to 
be  jealous  without  any  cause  whatever. 

When  they  got  out  into  the  gardens,  however,  Stella 
could  bear  the  seeming  estrangement  between  herself 
and  one  of  her  earliest  friends  no  longer.  She  took 
advantage  of  the  others  being  engrossed  with  some  one 
of  the  innumerable  wonders  of  the  place  to  call  Stanley's 
attention  to  something  else,  and  when  he  paused  reluc- 
tantly by  her,  she  looked  him  full  in  the  face,  and  in 
her  usual  direct  way  said  : 


io6  Comrades  True. 

"  Why  are  you  angry  with  me,  Mr.  Stanley  ?'' 

"  I  am  not  angry  with  yon.  I  have  no  right  to  be 
angry  with  you." 

"  Then  why  are  you  so  cool  to  me  ?" 

"  I  have  no  intention  of  being  cool,  either." 

"  But  you  are/'  she  went  on,  with  maddeningly  sweet 
persistence,  "  and  why  ?     Tell  me  why  ?  " 

''  I  admit  that  I  am  not  a  very  genial  companion  to 
any  one  to-day.  The  fact  is,  I  am  self-absorbed  ;  I  am 
trying  to  solve  a  problem  that  is  of  importance,  at  least, 
to  myself." 

"Will  you  tell  me  what  it  is  ?  "  she  asked  insinuat- 
ingly. 

^'  You  will  think  it  a  very  trivial  one.  It  is  merely 
that  I  am  trying  to  decide  how  and  when  I  shall  tell 
St.  Errol  that  I  mean  to  go  out  to  the  Transvaal  as  war- 
correspondent  if  I  can  find  a  journal  with  sufficient 
confidence  in  me  to  give  me  the  billet." 

"  How  strange  ! " 

"  What  is  strange  ?  That  I  should  think  of  doing 
real  work,  instead  of  sitting  down  supinely,  and  acting 
as  if  I  had  as  much  right  to  all  the  luxury  and  state  of 
Errol  Castle  as  St.  Errol  himself  ?" 

"1^0,  not  that!  but  strange  that  you  and  I  should 
have  been  thinking  of  doing  exactly  the  same  thing." 

"  Why,  are  you  thinking  of  going  out  as  war-corre- 
spondent ?  "  asked  Stanley  of  Miss  St.  Errol. 

"  No,  but  wishing,  oh,  so  fervently  !  that  I  could  go 
out  and  help  to  nurse  the  wounded." 

His  face  grew  dark  in  a  moment. 

"So,"  he  thought,  "her  versatile  fancy  has  been 
caught  by  this  gay  and  debonair  young  soldier  already  ? 
I  knew  it  would  be." 


A   Happy   Day  ?  107 

"Captain  Rentick  says  1  cuirt  realize  wluit  hard 
work  it  is.  aiul  how  heartreiidiiii,'  some  of  the  scones  are. 
But  other  women  go  tlirough  tliem  without  llinching. 
Don't  you  think  I  have  stamina  enough  to  do  it  ?" 

*•  Don't  ask  me,"  he  said  huskily.  "  1  dure  not  oiTer 
an  opinion."' 

He  turned  away  coldly,  she  thought,  but  as  a  matter 
of  fact  because  the  thought  of  this  dainty  fairy-queen 
in  the  midst  of  scenes  of  carnage  and  danger  was  wring- 
ing tears  of  blood  from  his  lieart. 

'"  Walk  back  with  me  to  Edensor,  and  tell  me  all  about 
it.  What  has  made  you  think  of  going  so  suddcidy  ? 
I  envy  you,  because  you  are  a  man,  and  can  do  as  you 
like,  and  go  when  and  where  you  like.  But — how  my 
guardian  will  miss  you  I  " 

"  He's  a  free  agent,  and  a  clever  fellow.  He  would 
get  on  to  almost  any  journal,  and  go  to  the  front  as  war- 
correspondent.  It  would  be  a  good  thing  for  him. 
Action  would  put  that  pretty  Mrs.  Clifford  out  of  his 
head." 

She  looked  uji  at  him  (piickly. 

"  You  think  that  ?  ''  she  asked. 

'^do." 

"  Then  you  are  one  who  holds  that  absence  makes 
the  heart  grow  fonder — of  some  one  else  ?  " 

She  asked  the  question  as  if  it  hurt  her  to  ask  it,  as 
if  there  were  pain  for  her  in  tht  possibility  of  his  lightly 
estimating  the  power  tind  inlluence  of  love. 

"  No,  Miss  St.  Errol  ;  I  am  not  one  of  that  kind. 
But  I  think  that  in  a  perfectly  hopeless  case  like 
St.  Errol's  nrtioji  is  invaluable.  He's  the  very  soul  of 
honor,  and  despises  himself  for  letting  his  mind  dwell 
on  the  ]»itiful  '  might  iiave  been.'     In  fact,  he  knows 


io8  Comrades  True. 

his  weakness,  and  if  he  will  take  a  AA'ord  of  counsel  from 
me,  he'll  take  that  best  of  all  tonics — wholesome,  hearty, 
esimest  acfio7i." 

"  Dear  Lord  St.  Errol  !  my  dear,  kind  guardian  !  I 
do  hope  that  you  will  be  able  to  persuade  him  to  go 
with  you.  I  shall  feel  ever  so  much  happier  about  you 
both  if  you're  together — and  I'll  take  care  of  Jock." 

"Then  Jock  will  be  a  happy,  well-cared  for  dog." 

''^I  hope  Alp  and  Adonis  won't  get  jealous  of  him, 
because  they  are  the  oldest  friends,  and  so  the  dearest. 
One  may  be  very  nice  to  a  new  friend  without  being 
disloyal  to  an  old  friend,  mayn't  one  ?  " 

"Oh,  certainly,"  he  said  heartily. 

JSTevertheless,  he  hoped  that  she  would  not  walk  back 
to  Edensor  with  Captain  Bentick. 

Nor  did  she.  She  clung  on  to  Mrs.  Ogilvie,  on  the 
pretense  of  heljoing  that  dear  lady,  who  did  not  require 
any  aid  at  all,  save  that  of  a  stout  stick,  but  who,  with 
loving  womanly  tact,  made  out  that  Stella  was  essential 
to  her. 

"  Have  you  enjoyed  it  ?  "  Stella  asked  with  affec- 
tionate solicitude  as  they  walked  back  through  the  ex- 
quisitely-ordered grounds.  "Has  it  come  up  to  your 
expectations  ?  Very  few  things  do  ;  but  has  the  real 
Chatsworth  come  up  to  your  ideal  ?  " 

"  It  has  exceeded  it !  " 

"What  a  contented  woman  you  are  !  What  a  hap2')y 
life  you  must  have  had  !  " 

Stella  spoke  pettishly. 

"  Ou  the  whole,  as  happy  a  one  as  any  human  being 
has  a  right  to  expect.  But  I  have  had  many  a  sorrow, 
and  they  have  made  me  so  j^itiful  to  the  sorrows  of 
others — real  or  imaginary," 


A  Happy  Day  ?  109 

*'  Tell  me  of  them.  Can  you,  or  will  it  hurt  you  too 
much  to  speak  of  them  ?  I  couldn't  bear  to  see  you 
break  down/' 

"I'll  spare  you  that  sight.  I  will  give  you  some 
lines  I  wrote  many  years  ago,  when  the  greatest  sorrow 
of  my  life  fell  upon  me.  1  brought  a  copy  of  them  with 
me  this  morning,  for  I  had  an  instinct  that  you  would 
discuss  your  grievance,  sorrow — call  it  what  you  will — 
with  me.'' 

Stella  grasped  the  little  page  eagerly. 

''  Why,  they're  printed  !  " 

*'  Yes.  they  were  published  in  the  Teniplc  Bar  maga- 
zine. Kead  them  quietly,  Stella  ;  they  speak  for  them- 
selves.'' 

These  lines  are  what  Stella  read  : 

"THE  PAGES  OF  THE  PAST. 

'*  In  the  vohime  of  my  memory  I  liold  those  chapters  dearl}' 
^Vherehl  names  I've  loved  aud  chei'islied  are  inscribed 
from  first  to  last, 
And  I  never  read  those  cliapters  very  audibly  or  clearly, 
For  my  heart  beats  all  too  quickly  o'er  these  pages  of  the 
past. 

"  Here's  the  little  dog  who  oit  me  in  a  fit  of  puppy  gladness, 
In  those  days  of  early  childhood  when  that  little  dog  was 
dear; 
To  my  grief  he  fell  a  victim  to  jiarental  dread  of  madness, 
Still  his  tragic  fate  demands  from  me  the  tribute  of  a 
tear. 

"Here's  my  little  schoolboy  lover,  witli   his  water-spaniel 
Rover, 
Astride  his  pony  Fidget,  with  his  satclifl-bag  of  grocn  ; 
Did  I  love  the  dog  and  jMjny  best,  or  really  love  tlio  lover? 
^Vhy  ask  ?     He  died  in  India  in  the  service  of  the  Queen. 


no  Comrades  True. 

"  Here's  a  later-on  edition  of  the  same  eternal  story 

Of  a  wooing  and  a  winning,  of  a  parting  and  a  vow, 
Of  a  woman's  truth  in  absence,  of  a  love  renounced  for 
glory— 
Of  such  pain  and  truth  and  tenderness,  I  marvel  at  it 
now. 

"Here's  another  buried  treasure — my  own  faith  in  human 
kindness, 
It  died  hardly,  I  remember,  but  die  it  did  at  last ; 
I  clung  to  it  with  passion,  and  I  wept  its  loss  to  blindness  ; 
I  view  its  grave  with  sorrow  in  these  pages  of  the  past. 

"  Here  the  parents  who  departed,  full  of  faith  and  years  and 
honor. 
Here  the  gallant  sailor  brother,  lost  at  sea  in  manhood's 
prime. 
Here  the  little  sons  who  left  me  to  return  to  God  the  Donor, 
In  safety  through  Eternity  while  I'm  wearying  through 
time." 


CnAPTER  XIII. 

"  AM    I    UGLY  ?" 

Mrs.  Ogilvie  knew  the  girl  slic  had  to  deal  with. 
She  knew,  without  looking  at  Stella,  that  the  sensi- 
tive, excitable  girl,  who  five  minutes  before  had  been 
bewailing  herself  and  her  fate,  was  now  forgetful  of  both 
these,  and  was  trembling  with  sympathy  for  tlie  sor- 
rows which  ilrs.  Ogilvie  had  never  advertised,  or  in  any 
way  thrust  forward.  So  silence  was  permitted  to  reign 
for  a  few  minutes. 

But  when  they  came  up  to  the  Edensor  Hotel,  Stella 
came  out  of  her  tame  and  gentle  mood  with  a  sjiring 
of  such  mental  vigor  that  ^Irs.  Ogilvie  realized  how 
entirely  the  softening  influence  of  her  self-revelation 
had  faded  for  the  time  from  the  mind  of  the  impres- 
sionable girl. 

"  The  horses  will  pull  a  bit  at  starting.  When  tlicir 
heads  are  turned  towards  Rowsley,  they  want  to  be 
*  there  *  at  once.  That's  where  papa  and  I  used  al- 
ways to  bait  them,  and  they  never  forget  it." 

She  spoko  so  happily,  and  with  such  a  profound  con- 
viction in  her  old  friend's  enjoyment  of  the  prospect 
being  as  keen  as  her  own,  that  Mrs.  Ogilvie  had  not 
the  heart  to  damp  lier  pleasure  by  saying  how  infi- 
nitely she  would  prefer  going  back  by  train.     But  she 


112  Comrades  True. 

did  suggest  that  the  coachman  should  occupy  Lord  St. 
Errol's  seat  ou  the  homeward  journey. 

"  You  see,  he  knows  the  horses  well,  and  is,  of  course, 
skilful  as  well  as  strong.  So,  in  case  of  their  becoming 
frightened  by  another  bull,  I  hope  you'll  approve  of 
my  proposal,  and  agree  to  it.'^ 

Stella  shook  her  head. 

"  I  should  feel  as  if  none  of  you  had  any  confidence 
in  me  if  that  arrangement  were  carried  out,  and  if  I  had 
the  coachman  up  with  me  in  the  box  I  should  have  no 
one  to  talk  to,  and  should  be  turning  round  every 
minute  to  one  of  you  " — determinately.  Then  she  added 
coaxingly,  as  the  horses  were  led  out  and  put  to  : 
"  See  !  are  they  not  beauties  ?  They're  full  of  gentle- 
ness, and  you'll  be  the  first  to  say  by-and-by  that  you 
have  never  enjoyed  a  drive  so  much  in  your  life." 

"1  think  I  have  felt  more  at  ease  behind  Puck." 

Mrs.  Ogilvie  smiled  as  she  said  it,  and  Stella  took  it 
for  granted  that  the  smile  expressed  absolute  reassur- 
ance and  confidence. 

There  were  a  few  brief  farewells  exchanged  between 
the  two  parties,  who  were  all  to  meet  again  for  luncheon 
at  the  Eowsley  Inn,  and  then  the  four-in-hand  started 
gaily,  with  the  Benticks  a  short  distance  in  the  rear. 

The  horses  justified  all  Stella's  prognostications  and 
expectations.  They  did  pull  a  bit  at  starting,  but  they 
soon  settled  down  to  a  steady  trot  that  promised  well 
for  those  who  sat  behind  them.  Stella  was  beginning 
to  give  Lord  St.  Errol  a  good  deal  of  information  about 
Captain  Bentick's  2:)lans  and  prospects  in  the  immediate 
future,  when  St.  Errol  interrupted  her  by  saying  : 

''I  wish  that  fellow  Avould  keep  on  one  side  of  the 
road  or  the  other  ;  he'll  be  into  Um." 


"Am   1   Ugly?"  113 

The  prophec}'  proved  too  sadly  correct.  A  bicyclist, 
with  the  diish  and  courage  of  an  ignorant  novice,  who 
had  been  scorching  down  the  liill  a  moment  or  two  be- 
fore, dashed  across  the  road — having  quite  lost  control 
of  his  steel  steed — right  against  the  leaders'  fore-legs. 
The  horses  rushed  up  a  bank  on  the  near  side,  followed 
by  the  wagonette,  which  overturned  in  a  flash,  and  the 
whole  party — host,  guests,  servants,  horses,  and  the  un- 
happy cause  of  the  mischief — were  lying  in  a  shapeless, 
helpless  mass  in  the  road. 

Stanley  was  the  first  to  extricate  himself.  lie  felt 
bruised  and  numbed  on  his  right  side,  but  his  head  was 
clear.  As  he  rushed  to  the  leaders'  lieads,  he  called 
out  : 

*'  Pull  the  ladies  out,  St.  Errol ;  then  come  and  help." 

"  I  am  not  hurt,''  Mrs.  Ogilvie  cried  out,  her  leading 
characteristic,  that  of  unfailing  unselfishness,  asserting 
itself  at  this  crucial  moment,  'SSee  to  Stella  !  See  to 
Stella  :  •' 

As  everyone  got  clear  of  the  debris,  and  St.  Errol 
lifted  Stella,  whom  a  blow  on  the  head  had  rendered 
unconscious,  out  of  danger,  Stanley,  whose  right  arm 
was  broken,  staggered  and  let  go  his  hold  of  the  horses' 
heads.  In  an  instant  they  dashed  away,  dragging  their 
ruins  after  them,  and  firing  a  parting  but  unintentional 
kick  at  Stanley  as  they  went. 

*'  Is  she  killed  ?  "  he  contrived  to  gasp  out,  as  he 
dragged  himself  to  the  spot  where  Stella  was  lying. 
"My  darling!" — he  could  say  no  more,  but  Stella's 
eyes  opened  as  he  said  it,  and  as  in  a  dream  she  heard 
the  words  that  were  the  last  he  uttered  before  he  lapsed 
into  uiK'onsciousness. 

The  Bcnticks  were  on  the  spot  very  soon  after  this 
8 


114  Comrades  True. 

dramatic  scene,  which  has  taken  long  to  describe,  but 
which  passed  like  a  flash  of  lightning  in  reality. 

Then  it  was  discovered  that  none  of  them  had  received 
any  injury  besides  several  bruises  and  a  severe  shaking, 
with  the  exception  of  Stanley.  Even  the  unfortunate 
and  awkward  cause  of  the  mischief  had  come  out 
scatheless  from  the  fray,  though  his  bike  was  rent  and 
smashed  into  fragments.  But  Stella  remained  dazed, 
trembling,  and  unable  to  speak  for  many  hours,  while 
Stanley  was  suffering  from  concussion  of  the  brain,  as 
well  as  from  a  dislocated  elbow  and  a  com^iound  fracture 
of  the  forearm. 

It  was  high  noon  on  the  following  day  before  Stella 
woke  from  a  long,  restful  sleep  with  her  memory  par- 
tially restored  and  her  active  brain  trying  to  assert 
itself.  In  a  moment  Mrs.  Ogilvie  was  by  her  side,  a 
finger  on  her  lips,  and  all  traces  of  the  terrible  anxiety 
she  had  been  enduring  banished  from  her  face. 

Bat  in  spite  of  the  signal  for  silence,  and  in  spite  of 
the  deadly  feeling  of  sickness  that  overpowered  lier  as 
memory  came,  Stella  would  ask,  "  Have  I  murdered 
any  one  ?  How  can  you  bear  to  touch  me  or  to  look  at 
me  ?  "  she  said,  making  an  effort  to  rise  up,  but  the 
weakness  engendered  by  the  shock  and  sleei^ing- 
draughts  sent  her  back  among  her  pillows  feeble  and 
panting. 

''  There  is  no  one  killed,"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  said,  forcing 
herself  to  speak  much  more  cheerfully  than  she  felt. 
"  Lord  St.  Errol  is  out  shooting.  Mr.  Stanley  is  in  the 
library  " — she  did  not  add  that  Stanley  had  been  carried 
in  and  laid  upon  a  quickly  improvised  bed  until  the 
doctors  could  set  his  dislocated  and  fractured  limb,  and 
that  he  had  not  been  able  to  be  moved  yet — "lam 


"Am  I  Ugly?"  115 

here,  as  yon  see,  right  well  and  hearty.  The  coaohinau 
is  going  to  drive  me  ont  tliisal'tcrnoun,  if  you're  :i  good 
chilli  and  will  keep  quiet  and  let  nie  go." 

h>tella  ])ut  a  weak  little  hand  up  to  her  head. 

"And  the  horses  ?" 

Mrs.  Ogilvie  had  the  courage  of  good-breeding  and 
unselGshness,  but  she  could  not  string  herself  up  to  the 
point  of  telling  Stella  tluit  one  of  the  leaders  had  broken 
his  leg,  and  had  been  shot. 

"  Make  haste  and  get  well  and  go  to  the  stable  and 
see  the  horses  for  yourself.  Xow  you  must  take 
this." 

The  maid  came  to  her  young  mistress's  bedside  at  the 
moment  with  a  cup  of  tea,  which  Stella  took  obedient- 
ly. She  was  a  long  time  about  it,  dipping  fingers  of 
dry  toast  into  it,  which,  when  they  were  cool  enough, 
she  handed  to  Jock,  who  sat  shivering  with  a  fox  ter- 
rier's sensitive  sympathy  on  her  bed.  She  was  evidently 
thinking  deeply,  for  when  she  handed  back  her  empty 
cup,  she  said  : 

"  1  can  go  and  see  Mr.  Stanley  in  the  library,  though 
I'm  not  well  enough  to  go  and  sec  the  horses  yet." 

*'  As  soon  as  you  arc  well  enough  you  shall  see  Mr. 
Stanley.  But  you  wouldn't  like  to  see  any  one  till  the 
cuts  and  bruises  on  your  face  are  healed." 

'*  Am  I  disfigured  for  life  ?"  Stella  asked   i)iteously. 

"  Not  anything  so  dreadful  as  that,  dear  child.  But 
you  have  two  very  black  eyes  in  place  of  your  pretty 
blue  ones,  and  yournose  is  cut  and  swollen.  AV'lien  the 
carriage  upset,"  she  went  on  slowly,  ''you  rose  to  try 
and  get  command  over  the  poor  frightened  horscp.  so 
you  were  thrown  out  with  more  violence  than  those  who 
were  sitting  down.     You  fell  on  v<nir  face " 


ii6  Comrades  True.  ^ 

"  And  I'm  ugly,  I'm  ugly,  and  no  one  will  ever  care 
for  me,"  Stella  moaned. 

Then  again,  as  in  a  dream,  she  heard  those  words, 
"  My  darling  !  "  and  half  quieted  by  the  lyric  sound, 
she  subsided  into  a  dreamless  slumber,  undisturbed  by 
black  eyes,  a  swollen  nose,  or  any  other  of  the  paltry 
considerations  which  had  been  weighing  heavily  on  her 
of  late. 

''If  Miss  St.  Errol  wakes  while  I  am  out,  and  wants 
to  go  down-stairs,  you  are  on  no  account  to  allow  her  to 
do  so,"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  instructed  Stella's  maid,  as  she 
(Mrs.  Ogilvie)  came  into  Stella's  room  prejoared  for  the 
afternoon  drive. 

"  Miss  St.  Errol  always  does  as  she  likes,  ma'am," 
the  maid  replied  rather  doggedly. 

She  was  fond  of  her  mistress — in  a  way.  But  she 
resented  the  idea  of  any  one  having  influence  over  that 
young  mistress  but  herself. 

"  Miss  St.  Errol  must  not  do  what  she  likes  until 
she  is  well  enough  to  know  what  is  best  for  her. 
But  perhaps  it  will  be  well  if  Mrs.  Millett  comes 
up  and  helps  you  to  take  charge.  She  has  known 
Miss  St.  Errol  since  she  was  a  baby,  and  you  need 
help  with  a  patient  in  such  an  extremely  critical 
state." 

Mrs.  Ogilvie  spoke  so  calmly  and  kindly,  but  withal 
with  such  decision,  that  the  maid  was  disarmed  as  far 
as  verbal  warfare  went.  But  she  felt  herself  to  be  a 
deeply-injured  woman  entitled  to  revenge  when  she  sat 
down  near  Miss  St.  Errol's  bed  to  await  the  coming  of 
the  unwanted  housekeeper. 

In  fact,  she  constituted  herself  a  vigilance  committee, 
^nd  resolved  to  make  herself  as  disagreeable  as  she  could, 


"Am  I  Ugly?"  117 

iu  tlie  interests  of  her  "  young  I;uly  "  and  herself,  but 
chiefly  of  the  hitter. 

The  afternoon — a  dull  November  afternoon — was  well 
advanced  when  Stella  Moke  again.  There  was  little 
light  in  the  room,  for  the  tire  was  screened  oil.  But 
there  was  still  light  enough  left  in  the  sky  to  show  tlio 
girl  that  branches  of  impatient  trees  were  waving  across 
her  uncurtained  windows. 

They  looked  weird  and  uncanny  in  the  fading  light. 
They  seemed  to  tear  and  scratch  at  the  window-panes, 
as  if  they  longed  to  get  out  and  worry  her  with  their 
clawlike  twigs.  Presently  she  remembered  enough  of 
the  events  of  the  last  few  hours  to  call  to  mind  where 
she  was  and  a  little  of  what  had  happened. 

She  sat  up  in  her  bed  and  took  hasty  notes  of  her 
surroundings.  Her  maid  was  sound  asleep  in  a  chair  at 
the  corner  of  the  screen.  Mrs.  Millett  liad  been  sum- 
moned by  important  household  needs,  and  was  absent 
from  her  post  as  watcher-in-chief. 

Stella  stumbled  out  of  bed  and  into  slippers  and  a 
dressing-wrap.  Haltingly,  but  with  all  the  speed  she 
could  muster,  she  steered  her  faltering  frame  down-stairs 
to  the  library. 

As  she  tottered  forward,  a  man — slie  did  not  know 
that  it  was  one  of  the  doctors  in  attendance  on  Mr. 
Stanley — rose,  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  carried  her 
back  to  the  hall. 

"You  are  mad  to  do  tliis,"  he  said  softly;  "your 
appearance  might  kill  him." 

"Am  I  80  ugly  ?"  she  sobbed,  and  then  she  remem- 
bered nothing  more  for  many  more  days,  that  wero 
weary  ones  for  those  wiio  watched  her. 

*  *  *  *  Hfi  * 


ii8  Comrades  True. 

Mr.  Clifford  was  alone  iu  his  handsomely  and  artis- 
tically-furnished bachelor  quarters — quarters  that  he 
could  not  look  upon  with  pleasure  this  day,  in  spite  of 
the  fine  taste  he  had  in  furniture  and  decoration.  He 
Avas  realizing  in  bitterness  of  spirit  that  he  would  soon 
have  to  leave  them,  for,  as  he  expressed  it,  ''he  had 
come  to  the  end  of  his  tether,"  as  out  of  what  had  once 
been  a  handsome  property  a  bare  pittance  remained. 
He  was  sick,  and  sore,  and  sorry,  and  sad — sad  with  a 
sadness  that  enveloped  him  like  a  thick  fog,  and  made 
him  feel  remorseful  for  the  way  he  had  treated  his  wife. 

He  turned  away  with  a  feeling  of  nausea  from  the 
light  invalid  breakfast  his  man  had  just  brought  in, 
and  sat  for  another  hour  brooding  over  the  fire,  leaving 
the  breakfast  untasted.  Then  he  rang,  and  peevishly 
complained  that  it  was  cold. 

After  a  time  he  went  to  his  writing-table,  and 
scrawled  a  brief  note.  He  was  very  ill  and  weak  ;  the 
least  exertion  made  his  hand  tremble.  When  he  had 
sent  it  off,  he  sat  down  and  began  to  brood  again ;  but 
reflection  only  serving  to  deepen  his  depression,  he 
picked  up  a  sporting  paper,  and  began  to  study  the 
Geisha's  chances  in  a  big  race  that  was  to  be  run  that 
same  day. 

"  I  wish  I  hadn't  put  all  I'm  worth  on  the  brute,"  he 
muttered.  "  Vixen  was  right,  I  believe,  after  all,  about 
the  French  horse,  only  I  do  hate  women  interfering  and 
giving  their  advice  at  every  turn." 

As  he  murmured  the  last  words  there  came  a  brisk 
knock  at  the  door,  and  before  he  could  answer  it  a 
woman  in  a  handsome  walking  dress  came  into  the 
room — a  fine,  tall,  handsome,  determined,  almost  bold- 
looking  woman,  who  evidently  was  not  suffering  from 


"Am  I  Ugly?"  119 

depression,  and  who  looked  the  embodiment  of  satisfied 
prosperiiy. 

''  How  are  yon,  Jem  ?  Better  to-day,  I  liope  ?  ''  slie 
asked,  giving  him  her  hand. 

He  still  held  it  while  he  replied  : 

**  No  worse.  The  only  thing  that  is  keeping  me  np 
is  the  hope  that  the  Geisha  will  he  a  winner." 

**  She  won't — you  take  my  word  for  that.  You 
haven't  plunged  on  her,  have  you  ?  " 

He  nodded  assent. 

"  Oh,  Jem,  Jem,  how  very  foolish  of  you  !  With  all 
my  heart  I  hope  the  mare  may  come  in  first,  and  with 
all  my  fears  I  dread  the  French  horse  will." 

"  Luck  can't  be  so  against  me  as  iltuf.  It  would  Ijc 
the  last  blow  if  it  is." 

"  You  have  said  that  about  so  many  things  during 
the  eight  years  I  have  known  you.  The  many  '  last 
blows'  you  have  had  would  have  knocked  down  a 
Hercules  or  a  Sandow," 

''Don't  be  frivolous  about  it.  Vixen.  I'm  really  on 
my  last  legs  now.  What  grieves  me  is  that  I  shall  no 
longer  be  able  to  give  you  the  diamonds  and  other  things 
that  your  womanly  heart  delights  in.'' 

"  But  I  have  got  them  all,  and  can  give  them  back  to 
you  in  your  hour  of  need." 

"  Do  you  think  I  should  be  such  a  cad  as  to  take  l)ack 
the  jewels  I  have  given  you  ?  "  he  said,  and  a  frightfully 
red  spot  burnt  on  either  cheek  as  he  said  it.  *'  I've 
wasted  eight  years  of  your  life  in  persuading  you  to  con- 
sider yourself  engaged  to  marry  me — if  ever  I  got  free 
of  my  wife." 

She  flushed  as  he  said  this,  and  iier  face  and  voice 
were  agitated  as  she  replied  : 


120  Comrades  True. 

"There  will  be  nothing  caddish  in  your  taking  what 
1  have  always  regarded  as  presents  from  a  man  who  con- 
sidered himself  engaged  to  me,  and  who  would  marry 
me  when  he  could.  You  know,"  she  went  on  with  re- 
pressed passion,  "that  for  four  or  five  years  I  thought 
you  were  a  single  man,  and  that  it  was  only  your  fear  of 
offending  your  '  people  '  that  prevented  your  marrying 
me  instead  of  dragging  on  the  wretched  engagement. 
When  I  discovered  that  you  had  a  wife,  I  still  believed 
you  when  you  said  she  was  going  to  divorce  and  set  you 
free.  It  was  a  revelation  to  me — an  awful  one — when  I 
found  that  our  engagement  was  a  farce,  and  that  you 
have  never  had  the  possibility  of  making  me  your  wife 
before  you •" 

"What  is  this  leading  up  to  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a  sneer. 

"This,"  she  said  quietly — "that  the  farce  must  be 
ended  soon.  I  have  held  the  jewelry  and  lace  you 
have  given  me  '  in  trust '  only.  I  only  took  them 
because  I  knew  if  I  had  not  done  so  some  one  more 
unscrupulous  would  have  despoiled  you  of  them." 

"  You  have  something  more  than  this  to  say.  Vixen  ?  " 

"I  have." 


CHAPTER  XIV, 

A    PAKTING. 

"  Out  with  it,  Vixen  !  I'm  sure  it's  something  un- 
pleasant. But  it  doesn't  much  matter.  When  a  man 
is  utterly  crushed,  fate  and  fortune  may  batter  away  at 
him  as  much  as  they  like  ;  he  can't  suffer  more." 

lie  spoke  harshly  and  peevishly,  but  she  did  not 
resent  his  tone.  On  the  contrary,  there  was  an  un- 
wonted expression  of  gentleness  in  licreycs  as  she  said  : 

"  Poor  Jem  I  I  am  afraid  you  will  suffer  more  when  I 
tell  you  tiiat  yesterday  1  iiad  an  offer  of  marriage  from 
a  man  I  sincerely  respect,  and — I  accepted  it." 

''  Vixen  I " 

"Do,  do  be  generous,  and  say  you  wish  me  to  be 
happy,  Jem  I  I  have  surely  been  a  very  patient  woman." 

She  moved  a  step  nearer  to  \\m\  and  took  his  hand. 
He  snatched  it  from  jier  and  waved  licr  away. 

"Jilted  !  after  all  these  years  !" 

"  Don't  bo  hard,  Jem.  'All  these  years'  have  been 
8a<l  for  me  too." 

"  Ilats  leave  a  sinking  ship  !  "  lie  snarled. 

"  I  have  gone  through  a  good  deal  ;  don't  be  hard  on 
mo  ])ecau8e  at  hist  I  give  uj)  a  forlorn  hope.  I  have 
been  misunderstood  and  held  to  be  guilty  while  I  have 

121 


122  Comrades  True. 

been  innocent.  That's  a  bitter  trial  to  a  woman,  Jem. 
Let  lis  part  friends/' 

Again  she  held  her  hand  out  to  him,  and  again  he 
repulsed  her. 

'^  Go  !  I  will  not  even  ask  the  name  of  the  man  you 
are  going  to  marry.  I  am  dying — I  know  it.  The  only 
solace  left  to  me  in  life  was  some  hours  of  your  society 
every  day.     Now  you  deiDrive  me  of  that.'' 

"  Forgive  me,"  she  said,  with  the  humility  of  a  loving 
woman. 

It  did  not  occur  to  her  to  blame  him  for  the  waste  he 
had  made  of  so  many  years.  She  asked  for  his  forgive- 
ness as  meekly  as  if  she  had  been  the  selfish  deceiver  in 
the  case. 

''Go  ! "  was  all  he  said  ;  and  she  went  away  with  an 
aching  heart. 

As  she  went  his  man  came  back  with  an  answer  to 
the  note  Clifford  had  sent  to  Madame  Dalma's  agent. 
It  merely  contained  Dalma's  address  in  New  York, 
which  was  what  Mr.  Clifford  had  asked  for.  Without 
delay  he  wrote  to  her  as  follows  : 

"  I  am  dying  alone  and  in  poverty.  Forgive  me,  and 
come  back  to  me. 

"  Your  husband, 

"James  Clifford." 

"  She'll  feel  it  to  be  her  '  duty'  to  nurse  me  and  sup- 
port me,  and  she  has  a  strong  sense  of  duty,"  he  said 
grimly  to  himself  ;  "  and  I  suppose  Vixen  will  feel  it  to 
be  her  duty  to  cast  me  adrift  altogether.  Women  are 
heartless,  and  no  mistake." 

Perhaps  if  he  could  have  seen  Vixen,  whose  real  name 
was  Violet  Calstock,  as  she  packed  up  the  diamonds 


A  Parting.  123 

and  pearls  he  had  given  her,  while  she  believed  herself 
to  be  honorably  engaged  to  him,  he  would  not  have  de- 
nounced hc-r  as  '•  heartless."  Tiie  tears  that  she  rained 
npon  them  were  not  for  the  jewels  she  was  parting  with, 
but  for  her  lost  faith,  her  broken  trust  in,  and  her  utter 
severance  from,  the  man  she  had  so  long  and  loyally 
loved. 

"  Fm  glad  I've  never  been  tempted  to  part  with  one 
of  them,  however  badly  I  have  wanted  ready  money," 
she  said  to  herself,  as  she  locked  the  jewels  up.  **  At 
any  rate,  poor  fellow  !  he  will  never  know  want,  even 
though  the  Geisha  is  not  a  winner." 

Distinctly  Vixen  was  not  heartless. 

When  Mr.  Clifford  received  the  jewel-case,  he  could 
not  resist  the  feeling  of  satisfaction  which  the  sight  of 
their  contents  gave  him.  He  tried  to  lash  himself  into 
a  rage  at  her  **'  callousness"  in  returning  what  had  been 
given  as  love-tokens  ;  but  he  failed  to  do  it.  The  sub- 
stantial comfort  which  he  would  derive  from  the  pro- 
ceeds of  their  sale  flashed  across  his  mental  vision,  and 
made  him  look  leniently  upon  the  conduct  of  the  woman 
who  was  befriending  him.  He  was  even  magnanimous 
enough  to  hope  that  tlie  fellow  she  was  going  to  marry 
would  be  **  as  generous  to  her  as  I  have  been." 
****** 

!Mrs.  Ogilvie,  who  liad  never  done  anything  that  was 
not  open  and  aboveboard  in  all  her  previous  life,  was 
turning  out  a  wily  diplomatist  now.  Her  chief  object 
was  to  prevent  Stella  seeing  Stanley.  In  tlie  girl's 
overwrouglit  physical  and  mental  condition,  the  sight  of 
poor  Stanley,  shattered  as  he  was,  would,  Mrs.  Ogilvie 
felt,  liave  a  fatal  effect  upon  the  girl  who  blamed  herself 
for  the  catastrophe.     Accordingly,   every  mirror   and 


124  Comrades  True. 

handglass  were  removed  from  Stella's  room,  and  the 
harmless  delusion  was  fostered  in  the  girl's  mind  that 
•she  was  disfigured — for  a  time  only — to  such  an  extent 
that  she  could  not  be  allowed  to  see  her  own  face  just 
yet,  much  less  let  any  one  else  gaze  upon  it. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Stella  had  a  slight  discoloration 
under  one  eye  and  a  cut  across  her  nose  ;  beyond  this 
she  was  not  damaged  visibly.  But  the  shock  to  her 
nerves  and  system  generally  had  been  so  severe  that  her 
friend  Mrs.  Ogilvie  and  her  guardian  both  felt  they 
dared  not  run  the  risk  of  letting  her  see  Stanley.  So 
she  was  kept  a  kindly-treated  prisoner  in  her  own  rooms 
while  Stanley  was  being  doctored  and  nursed  through 
a  crisis  in  his  life. 

The  broken  arm  and  dislocated  elbow  were  not  the 
worst  of  his  injuries.  In  giving  him  a  kick  at  breaking 
away — quite  unintentional  it  was — one  of  the  leaders 
had  struck  him  on  the  right  temple  and  damaged  his 
eye.  The  eye  had  been  operated  on,  but  it  was  a  grave 
question  whether  it  would  ever  be  useful  to  its  owner 
again  or  not,  and  in  the  meantime  a  black  patch  and  a 
darkened  room  were  the  conditions  under  which  he  was 
lying  alive,  mentally  clear  and  alert,  physically  dark- 
ened and  wretched. 

Stella's  system  had  been  so  thoroughly  shaken  by  the 
shock  of  the  accident  and  the  alarm  consequent  upon 
it  which  she  had  felt  for  her  companions,  that  a  fort- 
night had  passed  before  weakness  released  her  from  its 
thrall.  By  this  time  she  was  allowed  the  free  use  of  as 
many  looking-glasses  as  she  liked,  and  her  delight  was 
as  fresh  and  outspoken  as  a  child's  when  she  saw  that 
she  "  was  not  ugly."  Indeed,  there  was  not  a  scar  to 
tell  the  tale  of  the  cuts  she  had  been   given  by  the 


A  Parting.  125 

Imrd,  heartless  road  when  slie  had  been  hurled  upon  it. 
ller  delicate  little  nose  had  received  merely  a  skin 
scratch,  and  what  they  had  feared  would  be  a  perma- 
nent mark  on  her  brow  had  vanished  out  of  sight  alto- 
gether. 

But  if  her  delight  at  her  restoration  to  good  looks 
was  as  frank  as  a  child's,  the  intensity  of  her  haiipiness 
when  she  was  told  she  might  see  Stanley  made  her  reti- 
cent and  almost  timid. 

He  was  better — indeed,  almost  himself  again — by  this 
time,  but  his  arm  was  still  in  a  sling,  and  he  wore  an 
ominous-looking  black  patch  over  one  eye.  His  spirits, 
however,  were  good,  in  spite  of  his  not  having  been 
able  to  do  any  Avork  since  that  unlucky  day  of  the  four- 
in-hand  drive. 

Every  writer,  more  especially  those  who  arc  depend- 
ent on  their  pens  for  their  bread-and-butter  and  inde- 
pendence, knows  how  agonizingly  wearing  these  periods 
of  enforced  inactivity  are.  With  perhaps  as  much 
mental  vigor  as  has  ever  been  their  portion,  and  with 
a  brain  teeming  with  thoughts  that  they  feel  are  tlie 
best  they  ever  had,  it  is  hard  to  lie  prone  and  helpless, 
unable  to  use  that  mental  force,  unable  to  put  theso 
thoughts  to  paper. 

Still,  his  spirits  were  good,  for  one  of  the  first  ocu- 
lists (summoned  from  London  by  St.  Errol)  had  told 
liim  to-day  that  his  sight  in  the  injured  eye  was  not 
permanently  destroyed.  The  surgeons,  too,  assured 
him  that  "  in  a  short  time  ho  would  have  the  full, 
strong  use  of  his  right  arm  again."  Altogether,  his 
mood  was  a  happy  one  compared  to  what  it  had  been 
recently,  and  he  looked  forward  with  keen  delight  to 
meeting  Miss  St.  Errol  at  luncheon. 


126  Comrades  True. 

"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  and  I  have  had  a  difficult  game  to 
play,"  St.  EiTol  explained  to  Stanley.  "  Poor  Stella 
was  a  good  deal  knocked  about  herself  when  we  came 
to  grief  that  day.  The  first  words  she  spoke  when  she 
recovered  consciousness  were,  '  Have  I  murdered  any 
one  ? '  When  she  was  told  no,  she  hadn't,  she  pro- 
ceeded to  make  inquiries  in  detail  about  each  one  of 
■Qs.  Mrs.  Ogilvie  made  the  best  of  everything,  but 
Stella  grew  suspicious  when  she  heard  I  was  shooting, 
and  you  were  not  Avith  me." 

"  Suspicious  !     Of  what  V  Stanley  asked. 

"  Of  your  being  hurt.  So  as  soon  as  Mrs.  Ogilvie's 
back  was  turned,  she  slipped  out  of  bed  and  down  to 
the  library  to  see  how  things  were  going.  It  would 
have  killed  her  to  see  you  as  you  were  then,  so  Dr. 
Leonard  promptly  caught  her  up  and  carried  her  to 
bed  again." 

"  Miss  St.  Errol  is  very  sensitive  ;  she  has  a  feeling 
heart  for  every  living  thing,  I  believe,"  Stanley  said 
warmly. 

"  Well,  I  won't  go  quite  so  far  as  that,  but  she  cer- 
tainly has  a  very  feeling  heart  for  any  one  to  whom  she 
takes  a  liking." 

"  Yes  ;  see  how  she  pets  Jock.  She  doesn't  pet  him 
foolishly,  as  some  women  do  their  dogs,  but  she  makes 
him  quite  a  little  friend.  Fancy  that  girl  thinking  of 
either  going  on  the  stage  or  as  a  hospital  nurse  !  You 
must  put  a  stop  to  her  doing  the  latter,  at  any  rate, 
St.  Errol.  If  you  felt  that  the  sight  of  a  slight  acci- 
dent like  mine  would  have  killed  her,  how  would  she 
bear  the  sight  of  hundreds  of  wounded  and  dying  ?  " 

St.  Errol  was  too  loyal  to  his  young  ward  to  explain 
the  reasons  he  had  for  thinking  that  the  sight  of  Stan- 


A  Parting.  127 

ley  injured  and  suffering  would  try  lier  more  severely 
than  the  sight  of  tlie  injuries  and  sufferings  of  others. 

**  If  lier  heart  and  her  mind  are  set  upon  doing  either, 
I  shall  not  thwart  her.  But  I  hope,  instead  of  her  do- 
ing either,  that  I  may  soon  be  called  upon  to  give  my 
permission  for  lier  to  marry  some  downright  good  fel- 
low, who  will  i)rize  and  take  care  of  our  dear  little 
sensitive  plant." 

*' He  means  Beutick,  of  course,"  Stanley  thought  ; 
and  his  mood  became  as  dark  and  dreary  as  the  De- 
cember day  through  which  they  were  living. 

****** 

**  Don't  let  us  have  any  delay.  Directly  Stella  comes 
down  let  us  go  in  to  luncheon,"  St.  Errol  had  said  to 
Mrs.  Ogilvie. 

He  had  a  manly  horror  of  a  scene  or  anything  ap- 
proaching a  scene  in  private  life,  and  he  greatly  feared 
that  the  sight  of  Stanley's  slinged  arm  and  patched  eye 
would  make  Stella  emotional.  But  he  need  not  have 
feared.  Stella  had  nerved  herself  to  bear  stoically  any 
trial  to  her  feelings.  It  had  been  borne  in  u])on  her, 
though  no  one  had  breathed  a  word  to  her  on  the  sub- 
ject, that  Stanley  had  been  seriously  hurt,  and  she 
steeled  herself  to  bear  the  sight  of  the  consequeuces  of 
what  she  persisted  in  thinking  was  her  fault. 

Siie  knew  also  that  there  would  be  another  call  made 
upon  her  endurance  that  day.  Mrs.  Bentick,  who  had 
called  regularly  every  day  since  the  accident,  always 
accom])anied  by  her  nephew,  to  inquire  for  the  sick 
and  wounded,  had  written  a  note  to  Stella  this  diiy 
whi<di  had  slightly  startled  her.  On  the  face  of  it  there 
waH  nothing  alarming  in  it.  She  (Mrs.  Beutick)  merely 
8uid  : 


128  Comrades  True. 

''  We  are  delighting  in  the  prospect  of  seeing  yoa 
to-day.  Mrs.  Ogilvie  tells  nie  you  will  be  down  and  see 
us.  I  hope  you  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  our  nephew 
Basil's  regiment  does  not  sail  for  another  fortnight.  I 
trust  by  the  time  he  gets  to  Cape  Town  this  bloody  and 
protracted  struggle  will  be  over,  but  I  dare  not  say  this 
to  him." 

Stella  felt  vaguely  uneasy  as  she  read  this,  and  her 
uneasiness  increased  as  the  hours  went  on.  She  was 
pleased  that  the  Bentick  family  had  taken  such  an 
evident  liking  to  her.  At  the  same  time  she  felt  that 
Mr.  Stanley  would  not  rejoice  in  the  fact  when  it  was 
made  manifest  to  him.  That  she  and  Captain  Bentick 
had  been  attracted  towards  each  other  during  their 
brief  intercourse  was  clear.  It  was  equally  clear  to  her 
now  that  Mr.  Stanley  had  been  unsympathetic  with  that 
attraction.  She  always  clearly  remembered  that  Stanley 
had  said  ''  My  darling  "  to  her  just  before  she  lapsed 
into  a  weird  world  of  unconsciousness  and  dreams. 

She  was  quite  self-possessed,  though,  when  she 
walked  into  the  anteroom  where  the  others  had  already 
assembled,  and  restrained  all  expression  of  surprise  at 
Stanley's  appearance,  whatever  she  might  have  felt. 

"  You're  a  little  fraud,  Stella,"  St.  Errol  said  as,  after 
they  had  all  greeted  her,  he  led  her  into  the  adjacent 
dining-room. 

Iler  thoughts  flew  back  to  the  accident  of  which  she 
would  hold  herself  guilty  at  once,  and  the  pink  tint  in 
her  face  deepened  to  scarlet  as  she  asked  : 

"  How  ?    You  mean  I " 

'  ■  I  mean  you  came  down  looking  like  a  rose  in  June 
instead  of  like  the  lily  I  was  half  fearing  to  see  after 
your  fortnight  in  bed." 


A  Parting.  129 

"I  don't  feel  a  bit  like  looking  a  lily  ;  my  face  is 
burning  now.  I  suppose  it's  the  exertion  of  coming 
down  after  staying  in  bed  like  a  sluggard  for  a  fort- 
night." She  stole  a  shy  glance  at  Stanley  as  she  spoke, 
and  then  strung  herself  up  to  say  :  "  I  feel  that  I  have 
shown  a  sad  lack  of  courage  and  energy,  Mr.  Stanley. 
I  gave  up  and  let  myself  be  nursed  and  coddled,  when 
there  was  nothing  the  matter  but  a  shaking,  which  I 
well  deserved  ;  while  you  are  about  with  a " 

She  stopped  with  a  little  choke  in  her  throat,  and 
he  hastened  to  assure  her  that  he  "  should  be  all  right 
in  a  day  or  two." 

"  I  think  a  short  drive  would  do  Stella  good  this 
afternoon,"  !Mrs.  Ogilvie  said,  addressing  St.  Errol  with 
her  usual  desire  to  avert  observation  from  other  people's 
confusion. 

"I  am  sure  it  would,"  St.  Errol  said  heartily  ;  and 
then  Stella  flushed  scarlet  again  as  she  remembered  Mrs. 
Bentick's  note  and  promised  visit  that  afternoon. 

"  I  can't  go  out  tiiis  afternoon — 1  mean,  I  don't  think 
I  ought  to  go  out,''  she  said,  with  much  embarrass- 
ment. 

"  My  dear  child,  why  not  ?  It  would  do  you  a  great 
deal  of  good.  You  arc  used  to  such  an  opcn-uir  life  that 
a  drive  will  be  the  best  doctor  and  incdicinc  that  you 
can  have  after  having  been  cooped  up  so  long." 

"  But,  Mrs.  Ogilvie,"  Stella  stammered  out,  for  she 
felt  that  Stanley  was  looking  at  her  with  his  one  un- 
liurmed  eye,  **  I  don't  think  it  would  be  polite  of  me  to 
go.  I  have  had  a  note  from  ^Irs.  lientick,  and  she  says 
she  wants  to   see  me  this  afternoon  when  she  calls." 

"Then  you  must  stay  at  home  to  roneivo  her,"  Mrs. 
Ogilvie  said  cheerily.  '•  Slill,  yuu  must  iiavu  frcsli  air  ; 
9 


130  Comrades  True. 

so,  as  I  have  many  letters  to  write,  I  will  ask  you  young 
people  to  take  a  stroll  in  the  grounds  without  me." 

"  I  am  so  sorry,  but  I  have  promised  my  steward  to 
ride  round  with  him  and  look  at  some  of  the  outlying 
cottage  property.  You  must  excuse  me,  Stella.  I 
know  Stanley  and  Jock  will  take  care  of  you.  You 
do  want  to  be  out  in  the  open  again,  and  no  mistake. 
You've  turned  quite  white;  you're  the  'lily'  now  I 
dreaded  seeing." 

"  Oh,  €1071^,  please  !  "  Stella  pleaded. 

The  prospect  of  a  stroll  through  the  grounds  alone 
with  Stanley  made  her  feel  faint.  Was  it  joy  or  was  it 
pain,  or  was  it  both  together  ?  She  could  not  have 
answered  that  question  satisfactorily. 

Presently  Mrs.  Ogilvie  went  oS  to  write  her  letters, 
St.  Errol  went  away  to  his  outlying  property,  and  Stella 
and  Stanley  started  for  their  stroll. 

It  thrilled  him  to  the  bone  when  she  insisted  in  help- 
ing him  on  with  his  overcoat,  and  when  she  laid  a  hand 
light  as  a  snowflake  on  his  arm,  and  said,  ''This  is  my 
doing,"  he  nearly  broke  down  ;  but  he  controlled  him- 
self, and  Jock  came  and  created  a  diversion. 

"  Let  us  go  down  to  the  Kingdom  of  Chrysanthe- 
mums," he  suggested  ;  and  they  went  to  it,  and  there  re- 
called the  little  events  of  the  last  time  they  were  there, 
the  evening  before  the  drive  to  Chatsworth. 

They  spent  an  hour  there,  and  were  happy  with  the 
half-fearful,  furtive  happiness  of  people  who  love  and 
are  not  sure  of  being  loved  in  return. 

He  had  almost  resolved  upon  putting  his  fate  to  the 
touch,  when  a  servant  approached  them,  hastily  saying, 
"  Mrs.  Bentick  to  see  you,  miss,"  and  Stanley's  oppor- 
tunity was  gone. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A    FATAL    IXTERRUPTIOX. 

"With  the  servant  close  by  and  the  Benticks  waiting 
for  her  in  the  liouse,  it  was  impossible  for  Stanley  to 
put  that  question  which  had  been  burning  on  his  lips  a 
moment  before.  As  she  lingered  for  a  few  seconds 
after  the  servant  had  left,  Stanley  raised  his  hat  with 
haughty  politeness,  and  said  as  he  turned  away  : 

"  I  must  not  keep  you  from  your  friends,  Miss  St. 
Errol." 

"  But  you'll  come  in  with  me,  surely  ?  They  have 
come  to  inquire  for  you  just  as  much  as  for  me." 

She  spoke  so  i)leadingly  that  his  pride,  which  had 
been  in  arms,  lowered  its  sword  so  far  as  to  enable  him 
to  say  : 

"I'll  walk  back  to  the  castle  with  you,  but  I  would 
rather  not  see  strangers  to-day." 

She  slackened  her  j^ace  when  ho  said  it,  and  made  it 
obvious  that  she  was  not  unduly  eager  to  leave  him  in 
order  to  greet  the  recent  arrivals. 

They  sauntered  on  quite  slowly  for  about  ten  min- 
utes, and  he  was  beginning  to  feel  that  her  new  friends 
had  certainly  not  weakened  her  interest  in,  and  regard 
for,  himself — interest  and  regard  which  at  first  she  had 
sliown  as  freely  for  him  as  for  her  guardian. 

131 


132  Comrades  True. 

As  this  comforting  conviction  grew  within  him,  he 
stole  a  glance  at  her  with  his  uninjured  eye,  and  as  he 
did  so  her  face  grew  rosy  and  radiant,  and  she  went 
forward  with  a  quicker  step.  Lodging  in  the  direction 
of  her  gaze,  he  saw  Mrs.  Bentick  and  her  nephew  Basil 
coming  to  meet  tliem,  and  again  Stanley's  heart  fell, 
and  his  soul  was  submerged  in  the  waters  of  bitter- 
ness. 

He  remained  just  long  enough  to  meet  them  and 
thank  them  for  their  kind  inquiries,  and  then,  with  a 
brief  apology,  he  turned  back  on  his  path  and  went 
down  to  the  lake  alone. 

He  was  haunted  all  the  time  by  the  thought  of  that 
radiant  look  of  pleasure  which  had  flashed  into  her  face 
when  she  saw  the  young  soldier  coming  towards  them. 
It  did  not  occur  that  the  pleasure  was  caused  quite  as 
much  by  the  presence  of  the  young  soldier's  aunt  as  by 
his  own.  So  he  wandered  round  the  lake,  which  looked 
dreary  enough  now  under  the  December  sky,  and 
thought  of  that  day  not  so  very  long  ago  when  he  had 
rowed  her  about  on  it  and  gathered  water-lilies. 

Meantime,  Mrs.  Bentick,  who  was  very  much  in  the 
confidence  of  her  ardent,  imjiulsive  nephew,  had  con- 
trived, in  the  easiest  and  most  natural  way  in  the  world, 
to  go  and  seek  Mrs.  Ogilvie  in  the  room  in  which  the 
latter  always  wrote  her  letters. 

The  intimacy  between  the  two  ladies  had  ripened 
rapidly  during  the  last  fortnight,  so  Stella  had  no  excuse 
for  offering  to  accompany  her  when  she  said  quietly  : 

*'  I  have  a  little  bit  of  business  about  the  Christmas 
parish  treats  and  entertainments  to  speak  about  to  Mrs. 
Ogilvie,  so  I'll  go  to  her,  if  you  Avill  allow  me." 

"  0  yes,  do,"  Stella  answered  ;  but  at  the  same  time 


A  Fatal    Interruption.  133 

she  felt  that  she  would  ratlier  not  luivc  been  left  alone 
with  Captain  Bentiek. 

"  I  expected  to  hear  you  had  gone  before  now/'  she 
began,  and  it  was  an  unfortunate  beginning. 

**  I'm  anxious  enough  to  be  off,  but  now  tliere's  an- 
other delay  of  ten  days  or  a  fortnight  before  the  trans- 
port we're  to  sail  in  is  ready.  However,  I  can't  grumble, 
for  the  delay  has  enabled  me  to  see  you  again.'' 

**  That's  poor  compensation  for  being  kept  back." 

"  It's  the  best  comjiensation  I  could  have.  I've  been 
here  every  day  in  the  hope  of  seeing  you,  and  day  after 
day  I  have  been  disappointed.  I  dared  not  write,  be- 
cause  "     He  did  not  say  "  because  he  feared  his  fate 

too  much,"  but  she  knew  what  he  meant,  and  suffered 
agonies  of  embarrassment  in  the  knowledge. 

"  I  wonder  that  every  one  who  was  in  the  wagonette 
that  dreadful  day  doesn't  hate  me.  See  what  my 
obstinacy  has  done  for  poor  Mr.  Stanley,"  she  went  on 
hurriedly. 

'*  Oh,  he's  all  right,"  Captain  Bentiek  said,  with  the 
indifference  most  men  feel  and  express  for  mere  ]diysical 
pain.  If  he  had  been  obliged  to  nurse  Stanley,  he  would 
have  done  it  with  all  conceivable  gentleness  and  care. 
But  he  was  not  going  to  express  pity  or  soft  sympathy 
for  a  broken  arm  or  a  damaged  eye.  "  It's  all  the  for- 
tune of  war,  you  know,"  he  went  on.  "  Will  you  be  a 
little  interested  in  me  when  I  go  to  the  front  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  shall  be." 

"  Then  I  shall  go  with  a  very  light  heart.  Don't 
think  me  awfully  l)rusque  an<l  a))ru})t,  and  don't  laugh 
at  me  when  I  toll  you  1  came  here  to-day  to  ask  for 
something  more  than  your  interest.  I'm  only  a  rough 
soldier,  accustomed  to  go  straight  to  tlie  point." 


134  Comrades  True. 

"But  you  don't  know  me?'' 

"  I  love  you  !  I  couldn't  love  you  more  if  I  had  known 
you  a  dozen  years  !  Give  me  hope  !  Let  me  come  again 
to-morrow.  Let  me  come  again/'  he  rei^eated,  with  the 
fervor  of  a  young  man  very  much  in  love^  pleading  so 
gallantly,  with  such  chivalrous  delicacy,  that  Stella 
wavered. 

"  I — my    guardian "    she    began,    and    then    she 

paused,  for  the  mention  of  her  guardian  brought  Stanley 
vividly  before  her. 

"  He  may  well  look  higher  for  you — I  know  you  are 
worthy  of  a  far  higher  place  than  I  can  offer  you — but 
no  fellow  will  ever  love  you  better,  or  strive  harder  to 
win  your  love.     Give  me  a  word  of  hope  ! " 

His  handsome,  earnest  face,  his  ardor  and  impulsive- 
ness, his  gallant  bearing,  his  evident  intensity,  and  the 
reality  of  the  emotion  he  so  hardly  repressed,  overcame 
her.  After  all,  why  should  she  not  let  herself  be  loved? 
"Why  should  she  let  a  feeling  reign  over  her  for  a  man 
who  did  not  reciprocate  it  ? 

'*  Come  again,"  was  all  she  said,  but  it  was  enough  for 
Basil  Bentick.  He  bent  his  head  to  her  hands  and 
kissed  them,  and  she  did  not  resent  the  endearment. 

The  two  elder  ladies  came  back  presently,  not  so  much 
absorbed  in  the  plans  they  had  been  making  for  the 
amusement  and  instruction  of  the  parish  as  not  to  be 
alive  to  the  young  human  interest  in  the  scene  on  which 
they  intruded.  The  actors  were  so  young,  so  trans- 
parent, and  one  of  them  was  so  buoyantly  triumphant 
in  the  way  he  had  played  his  part,  that  it  looked  for  a 
moment  as  if  there  would  be  an  explanatory  burst  of 
fireworks. 

His  aunt   averted   this  by  saying,  *'  Come,  Basil,  we 


A  Final   Interruption.  135 

have  already  kept  Mrs.  Ogilvie  too  long  from  her  drive. 
Dear  Miss  St.  Errol,  my  husband  liopos  he  may  bo 
allowed  to  call  on  you  soon.  He  is,  or  has  been,  a  tine 
horseman  and  whip,  and  the  skill  and  courage  you  dis- 
played have  quite  won  his  heart.  He  begs  that  you 
will  accept  an  old  man's  homage," 

"  I  don't  deserve  it,"  Stella  said  almost  humbly. 

There  was  nothing  deceitful,  or  even  secretive,  about 
Stella.  As  soon  as  their  visitors  were  gone — Captain 
Bentick's  long  lingering  glance  at  Stella  as  ^lo  turned 
for  one  last  look  before  leaving  the  room  would  have 
betrayed  his  love  and  hopes  to  any  one  not  wilfully  blind 
— she  began  her  confession. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Ogilvie  I  I  have  done  such  a  wrong  thing, 
such  a  wickedly  wrong  thing  !  I  can  hardly  bear  to  tell 
even  you." 

"  My  dear  penitent,  what  is  it  ?  Come,  I  will  help 
you.     Captain  Bentick  has  proposed  to  you  ?  " 

Stella  made  a  sign  of  assent. 

**  And  you " 

**  Have  told  him  that  he  may  come   to-morrow." 

Mrs.  Ogilvie  suppressed  tlie  expression  of  cliagrin  and 
disappointment  which  slie  felt  on  Stanley's  account,  and 
exonerated  Stella  from  the  charge  of  fickleness  and 
coquetry  witli  wliich  she  suspected  Stella  was  charging 
herself. 

"That  is   tantamount  to  accepting  him,  Stella." 

"  I  know  I  ought  not  to  have  done  it,"  Stella  said 
sorrowfully.  She  was  reproaching  herself,  but  not  about 
the  matter  which  Mrs.  Ogilvie  imagined  was  weighing 
upon  lier  mind.  **  I  ought  not  to  have  done  it — I  know 
I  ought  not  have  done  it  !  But — he  seems  to  l)e  very 
fond  of  me — I'm  sure    he   is   very  fond  of  me — and    ho 


136  Comrades  True. 

was  so  open  and  daring  about  it  that  I  felt  my  heart 
leajD  out  to  him,  and — I  forgot  that  I  ought  not  to  tell 
him  to  come  again." 

''Why  not?"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  asked  nervously.  She  felt 
sure  now  that  Stella  was  suffering  from  the  consciousness 
of  having  behaved  badly. 

''Because  he  has  a  good  old  name,  and  everybody  knows 
who  he  is  and  all  about  his  family,  and  I  have  neither 
name  nor  family  for  any  one  to  know  anything  about. 
I  ought  to  have  remembered  all  that,  but  some  way  1 
didn't." 

"  Yours  is  a  very  venial  offense,  if  that  is  the  worst 
of  which  you  have  to  accuse  yourself,  dear.  He  knows 
the  story  of  your  life,  and  is  evidently  perfectly  satis- 
fied with  it." 

"  Still,  I  ought  not  to  have  taken  advantage  of  such 
generous  and  frank,  fearless  love,"  Stella  said  remorse- 
fully. 

"  Nonsense,  child  !  There  is  no  '  taking  advantage ' 
of  him  in  the  case,  if  you  were  heart-free  when  he  asked 
you,  and  you  feel  that  you  can  love  him." 

"  I  feel  that  I  can — that  I  do  love  him,"  the  girl  said 
bravely  ;  "  and — I  was  heart-free,"  she  said  more 
slowly. 

"Then  all  is  well,"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  said  cheerfully. 
She  was  disappointed  for  Stanley,  for  whom  she  had  a 
warm  regard  and  a  great  respect.  But  she  was  a  wo- 
man, and  she  understood  how  Stanley's  frequent  lapses 
into  reserve  that  bordered  on  coldness  must  have  chilled 
the  warm  heart  that  had  not  been  able  to  perceptibly 
melt  the  thin  ice  in  which  he  had  encrusted  himself. 

"  You  don't  blame  me  very  much,  do  you  ?  "  Stella 
asked  apologetically. 


A  Final   Interruption.  137 

"  I  don't  blame  you  at  all.  I  believe  the  instinct 
which  has  brought  you  two  young  people  together  to 
be  a  right  and  true  one.  My  dear  Stella,  I  have  real- 
ized fur  a  long  time  that  you  could  never  live  in  a  per- 
fect rarefied  air  ;  you  could  not  breathe  happily  in  it. 
You  need  '  warmth  and  color,'  and " 

'"That  I've  found  in  Lancelot,' "  Stella  said,  fin- 
ishing the  quotation  with  a  brilliant  happy  smile. 

"  Lord  St.  Errol  must  be  prepared  for  the  visitor  he 
will  have  to-morrow,  and  for  that  visitor's  request." 

"  Xot  to-night  I  not  to-night  !  "  Stella  pleaded. 

**Why  not  to-night  ?     Indeed,  it  must  be  to-night." 

**  But  not  till  after  dinner — not  till  after  I  have  gone 
to  bed,"  Stella  urged. 

"You  surely  are  not  going  to  turn  coward,  my  dear 
child  !  Your  love  must  make  you  courageous  ;  indeed, 
I  don't  see  why  your  courage  should  be  taxed  at  all." 

"  Perhaps  Lord  St.  Errol  won't  understand  about  it. 
He  may  think  that  he — that  we  both  have  been  hasty 
and  imprudent,  lie  may  think  it's  impossible  Captain 
Bentick  and  1  can  care  for  each  other  so — so  quickly." 

*'  lie  has  but  to  look  into  his  own  heart,  and  he  will 
understand  quickly  enough." 

"  Then,  will  you  tell  him,  and  wait  till  I'm  gone  to 
bed  to  do  it  ?  I  wonder  if  his  uncle  and  aunt  will  be 
angry  about  it  ?  " 

"  I  can  answer  for  their  not  being  that." 

"  You  are  very  good  to  mc — everybody  here  is  very 
good  to  me  !  "  Stella  said  warmly. 

**  Everybody  here  loves  you,  dear,"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  re- 
joined ;  and  as  she  spoke  she  wished  that  one  of  the 
home  party  did  not  love  Stella  so  well  in  his  iron- 
bouiul  way. 


138  Comrades  True. 

Fortunately  for  them  all,  St.  Errol  came  home  brim- 
ming over  with  zeal  and  enthusiasm  about  the  hamlet 
which  straggled  about  on  the  side  of  one  of  the  wildest 
and  most  remote  hills  in  the  Peak  District.  He  had 
found  the  people  grim  and  rough,  steeped  up  to  the 
hilt  in  their  dislike  to  and  distrust  of  strangers,  living 
hard,  narrow,  half-savage  lives,  the  interests  of  which 
were  bounded  by  the  mines  in  which  they  worked. 

He  was  full  of  schemes  for  the  cultivation  of  their 
physical  condition,  and  for  the  culture  of  their  crude, 
harsh  minds.  He  intended  at  once  to  build  a  reading 
and  recreation  room  in  the  hamlet,  to  flood  it  with 
newspapers,  chiefly  illustrated  ones,  and  bagatelle, 
cribbage,  and  other  boards. 

"  They  are  semi-savage,  a  good  many  of  them," 
Stella  admitted.  ''Until  they  know  who  you  are, 
they're  just  as  likely  to  stone  you  as  to  say  good  day  to 
you.  They  have  been  accustomed  all  around  here  to 
see  me  with  papa  all  my  life,  so  they've  never  stoned 
me." 

''What  delightful  people  !"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  remarked. 

"  And  some  of  the  better  class  are  just  as  boorish 
and  uncouth,"  Stella  went  on  rapidly.  This  was  such 
a  safe  topic  that  she  was  resolved  to  keep  it  going  as 
long  as  possible.  "  I  remember  some  few  years  ago  a 
clergyman  came  down  as  locum  tenens  to  do  duty  at 
that  church  on  the  nearest  hill.  He  brought  his  Avife 
and  little  girls  with  him,  and  the  first  time  the  little 
girls  went  out  into  the  village  a  lot  of  big  boys  of  from 
fifteen  to  eighteen  got  round  them  and  threw  stones  at 
them.     They  were  rough  young  half-savages." 

The  discussion  and  comments  which  these  remarks 
of  Stella  evoked  carried  them  well  through  dinner,  and 


A   Final   Interruption.  139 

as  soon  as  the  two  ladies  got  into  the  little  drawing- 
room,  which  Mrs.  Ogilvio  made  her  headquarters, 
Stella  pleaded  fatigue,  and  went  to  bed. 

"  Dear,  dear  I  I  wish  I  were  not  in  this  act,"  Mrs. 
Ogilvie  thought.  ''  I  must  speak  to  8t.  Errol  to- 
night, but  if  Stanley  comes  in  with  him,  how  am  I  to 
do  it  ?  " 

However,  she  was  spared  trouble  on  that  account. 
Stanley  had  noticed  a  subtle  change  in  Stella  at  dinner, 
and  a  lover's  intuition  told  him  that  it  was  due  to 
something  which  had  taken  place  since  their  parting  in 
the  grounds  that  afternoon. 

"  Whatever  it  is,  God  bless  her  !  "  he  said  to  himself. 

lie  was  in  no  mood  for  cither  smoking  or  talking. 

''  I  think  I'll  read  up  the  war  news  in  my  own  room, 
and  then  get  to  bed  early,"  he  told  St.  Errol,  and 
added  :  ''  I  get  more  tired  at  night  than  I  ought  to  be. 
I  think  it's  idleness  that's  disagreeing  with  me.  I 
shall  run  up  to  town  to-morrow,  and  find  out  if  the 
doctors  can't  patch  me  np  and  give  me  leave  to  try  a 
sea-voyage,  with  the  prospect  of  work  after  it  in  the 
Transvaal." 

Jock  heard  him  say  it,  and  instantly  jumped  on  his 
knee,  quivering  with  the  best  emotions  of  doghood. 

The  communication  had  been  made,  and  Mrs.  Ogilvie 
and  St.  Errol  sat  opposite  to  each  other  in  profound 
silence  for  some  time.     At  last  Mrs.  Ogilvie  spoke  : 

''  You  are  sorry.'' 

''Not  that.  Bentick  is  a  line  fellow,  and  Stellas 
happiness  is  my  first  consideration.     But " 

"  Thoro  must  be  no  '  buts  '  now  ;  the  matter  is  taken 
out  of  our  hands — unless  you  refuse  your  consent." 
**  "Which  I  shall  not  do,  which  he  would  bo  the  last 


140  Comrades  True. 

fellow  on  the  face  of  the  earth  to  wish  me  to  do.  I 
know  now  why  he  is  going  up  to  town  to-morrow.  He 
scented  something  of  this." 

"  '  There's  a  Providence  which  shapes  our  ends, 
Rough  hew  them  as  we  will,'  " 

Mrs.  Ogilvie  quoted. 

"  There'll  be  some  rough  hewing  to  be  done  before 
he  clears  away  what  he  feels  for  Stella,"  St.  Errol  re- 
plied, and  that  was  all  their  loyalty  to  both  the  man 
and  girl  permitted  them  to  say  about  that  side  of  the 
subject. 

Stanley  had  left  before  the  others  met  at  breakfast 
the  next  morning,  and  for  some  reason,  which  she 
would  not  allow  herself  to  analyze,  Stella  felt  her  heart 
bound  with  relief  when  she  heard  he  was  gone.  There 
was  no  shadow  now  to  be  cast  over  the  sunshine  of  her 
love — excepting  the  shadow  of  Captain  Bentick's  speedy 
departure.  But  Stella's  was  essentially  a  sanguine 
nature,  and  she  could  never  look  upon  the  black  side 
of  things  for  any  lengthened  period.  To  part  with 
him  would  be  agony,  but  no  one  else  had  the  right  to 
feel  the  same  agony,  no  one  else  could  glory  or  weep 
for  him  as  she  would.  He  was  her  own  !  The  one 
man  in  the  world  for  her,  as  he  had  proved  she  was  the 
one  woman  in  the  world  for  him. 

A  brief  idyll !  It  lasted  ten  days  :  then  he  sailed  for 
South  Africa. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

FLIGHT. 

A  PROBLEM  which  perplexed  St.  Errol  a  good  deal, 
and  whicli  he  utterly  failed  to  solve  before  he  fell  asleep 
that  night,  was  how  could  he  most  considerately  break 
the  news  of  Stella's  engagement  to  his  best  friend  the 
next  morning. 

He  was  not  angry  with  his  ward  for  having  made 
havoc  of  the  plans  which  he  had  hoped  would  strengthen 
the  already  strong  bonds  which  held  Stanley  and  him- 
self together.  He  was  not  even  annoyed  with  her.  He 
recognized  and  respected  the  right  a  woman  has  to 
dispose  of  herself  in  marriage  as  seems  best  to  her.  At 
the  same  time,  his  sympathies  were  with  Stanley,  and 
he  shrank  as  a  woman  would  from  inflicting  pain  from 
the  prospect  of  the  blow  he  would  be  compelled  to  deal 
the  man  for  whom  he  cared  most  in  the  world  the  next 
morning. 

With  the  morning's  light,  however,  and  the  arriviil 
of  his  man  and  hot  water,  his  trouble  and  jjorplcxity  on 
this  j)oint  came  to  an  end  as  his  man  gave  him  a  note 
with  the  words  : 

'*  Mr.  Stanley  had  to  catch  the  five  o'clock  train,  my 
lord,  and  Ijeing  so  early  he  would  not  disturb  your  lord- 
ship." 

141 


142  Comrades  True. 

The  note  was  brief  : 

'^  My  dear  old  Chum, 

"  I'm  off  to  try  the  cure  I  recommended  to  you 
— action  ! 

*'  Yours  in  fastest  and  firmest  friendship, 

"  Guy  Stanley/' 

"  I  can  face  the  other  fellow  now  with  a  better  grace," 
St.  Errol  thought,  and  for    the  first  time  since  their 
alliance  began  Stanley's  absence  was  a  relief  to  him. 
****** 

At  the  cost  of  much  trouble  and  money  Madame 
Dalma  had  succeeded  in  breaking  her  contract  with  the 
management  of  the  concert  company  with  which  she 
was  touring.  It  was,  perhaps,  the  greatest  sacrifice 
she  had  ever  made  in  her  self-sacrificial  life.  To  give 
up  the  practise  of  the  art  she  loved,  and  the  society  of 
the  fellow-artist  who  had  grown  dear  to  her,  would 
have  been  hard  enough  in  itself ;  but  it  was  harder 
still  to  know  that  she  was  exchanging  these  for  a  round 
of  duties  in  the  service  of  a  man  who  would  not  appreci- 
ate, much  less  be  grateful  for,  them. 

She  could  not  help  remembering  that  he  had  been 
fractious,  cynically  cruel  in  speech,  impossible  to  please, 
and  callously  indifferent  to  her  feelings  and  unhaj^piness 
in  the  days  of  his  prosperity,  and  the  thought  of  what 
he  would  be  in  these  days  of  adversity  made  her  sick  at 
heart.  But  he  had  judged  her  rightly.  Without  a 
murmur  or  a  moment's  hesitation  she  got  out  of  her 
engagement,  incurred  the  ill-will  of  the  management, 
which  was  reaping  a  golden  harvest  by  means  of  her 
magnificent  voice,  and  went  back  to  England,  home, 
and  duty. 


Plight.  143 

Mr.  Clifford  liad  been  at  a  very  low  ebb  on  the  day 
on  which  he  had  despatclied  his  missive  asking  his 
wife  to  come  back  and  look  after  liim.  A'ixeu's  pro- 
jected marriage  hnrt  him  considerably,  but  the  doubts 
which  assailed  his  mind  as  to  the  horse  on  whicli  he  had 
plunged  coming  in  a  winner  hurt  him  still  more,  lie 
really  believed  himself  to  be  dying,  and  almost  accused 
his  wife  of  want  of  consideration  in  not  coming  over  by 
telegraph-wire.  He  shivered  before  the  fire  and  coughed 
more  than  ho  need  have  done,  and  poured  pity  lavishly 
upon  himbelf. 

But  the  shivering  and  the  cough  ceased  presently, 
when,  immediately  after  the  well-known  newsboy 
cry, 

"All  tiie  winners  I  all  the  winners  I"  was  hoard,  his 
servant  brought  him  a  sporting  paper,  and  he  saw  that 
the  Geisha  had  romped  in  half  a  length  ahead  of  the 
French  horse,   who  came  in  second. 

*'  By  this  I  net  ten  thousand  pounds  !  That  will  see 
me  through  right  enough,"  he  thought  exultantly,  as, 
with  every  trace  of  invalidism  banished  from  his  bear- 
ing, he  drove  to  liis  club,  to  be  congratulated  and 
applauded  for  the  admirable  sagacity  witli  whicli  ho 
had  picked  out  and  gone  strong  on  the  winner. 

Some  men  flattered  him — he  could  absorb  any  aniduiit 
of  flattery— on  the  clear-lieadedness  and  forcsigiit  ho 
bad  displayed  when  he  told  them. 

''I've  followed  that  horse  riglit  tlirough  her  turf 
career.  Knew  she'd  pull  this  olT,  tliough  she  hasn't 
done  very  much  lately." 

Then  he  gloated  over  the  downfall  of  those  who  had 
pinned  their  faitii  and  \nit  their  money  on  the  l-'rench 
horse,  and  was  altogether  very  liappy — so  haj»py  that 


144  Comrades  True. 

his  feeble  spark  of  life  flickered  up  quite  brightly,  and 
he  regretted  having  sent  for  his  wife  under  the  mistaken 
impression  that  he  was  dying,  and  the  knowledge  that 
she  would  minister  to  his  wants  better  than  any  one 
else.  However,  the  reflection  that  Miss  Calstock  would 
probably  feel  pain  at  the  reunion,  and  possibly  feel 
jealous  of  the  wife  of  whose  existence  she  had  only 
recently  become  aware,  solaced  him  considerably. 

He  sold  the  diamonds  and  pearls  which  had  been 
returned  to  him  at  grand  prices,  and  for  a  few  days 
enjoyed  a  small  edition  of  the  sensations  of  a  million- 
aire. But  the  gambling  blood  ran  freely  in  his  veins, 
and  by  the  time  Mrs.  Clifford  rejoined  him  he  was 
steeped  once  again  in  wo  ;  for  he  picked  out  not  one 
only,  but  two  or  three  non-winners,  and  all  that  the 
Geisha  had  pulled  in  for  him,  together  with  a  great 
part  of  the  proceeds  of  the  sale  of  the  jewels,  had  gone. 
Then  the  sj)ark  which  had  flickered  up  with  fictitious 
brilliancy  faded  again,  and  when  his  wife  came — for 
whose  presence  he  longed  eagerly  now — he  was  pite- 
ously  ill. 

The  well-appointed  brougham  and  man-servant  were 
put  down  at  once,  and  after  a  little  time  she  persuaded 
him  to  move  into  rooms  more  suitable  to  their  means, 
though  not  to  his  requirements.  He  still  nourished  the 
fallacious  hope  that  if  he  could  "  only  lay  his  hands  on 
a  few  hundreds  he  could  retrieve  all  he  had  lost." 

He  had  been  very  ingratiating  in  his  manner  to  his 
wife  since  her  return,  and  she  would  not  allow  herself 
to  think  that  it  was  only  because  he  needed  her,  and 
what  she  could  give  and  do  for  him,  that  he  was  so.  It 
never  entered  her  mind  to  suspect  the  purpose  that  was 
underlying  his.     He  seemed  to   have   eliminated   the 


Flight.  T45 

gambling  blood  from  his  veins,  and  never  looked  at  a 
sporting  paper — before  her. 

She  had  brought  back  a  few  hundreds  from  America, 
enough  to  keep  tliem  in  comfort  for  a  year  or  two  at  the 
rate  at  which  they  were  living.  But  her  heart  sank 
within  her  when  she  reflected  that  this  little  would 
come  to  an  end,  and  then 

Tlien,  unless  he  allowed  her  to  go  back  to  the  concerts 
and  work  for  their  maintenance,  abject  poverty  would 
stare  them  in  the  face,  for  every  day  in  which  she  was 
not  before  the  public  she  was  fading  away  from  the 
public.  "While  she  sat  there  doing  nothing,  unable  to 
study,  because  the  sound  of  music  of  any  kind  grated 
on  his  battered  nerves,  other  sopranos  were  coming  to 
the  fore,  and  she  knew  that  she  must  ere  long  take  her 
place  as  one  of  the  "has  becns." 

One  day  she  mooted  the  matter  to  him.  He  hail 
been  extraordinarily  ingratiating,  considerate,  and  con- 
tented for  several  hours,  and  the  opportunity  struck 
her  as  a  good  one. 

"James,"  she  began — she  would  never  call  him 
**  Jem,"  because  she  had  learnt  that  the  "Vixen," 
whose  lost  friendship  he  still  at  times  bewailed,  had 
called  him  by  that  name — "James,  it  would  be  better 
for  us  both  if  you  could  sjiare  me  to  my  profession 
again.  The  little  store  I  have  will  come  to  an  end  in  a 
few  months,  and  we  have  nothing  to  fall  back  upon. 
Besides,  I  should  be  a  liappier,  and  therefore  a  better, 
woman  if  I  were  at  work  again.  My  heart  is  in  my  art, 
and  it's  being  starved  now." 

To  her  surprise,  he  looked  f|iiite  pleased. 

"I  have  been  thinking  the;  same  thing,  dear.  Not 
that  the  consideration  of  money  enlered  into  my  head, 

lO 


146  Comrades  True. 

but  I  know  yon  would  be,  as  you  say,  happier  if  you 
were  in  pursuit  of  your  calling  again.  The  only  thing  " 
■ — and  he  sighed — "is  that  I  shall  lose  your  society  a 
good  deal  when  you  sing  at  evening  concerts.  My 
cough  won't  permit  me  to  go  to  them." 

She  did  not  remind  him  that  his  cough  permitted  him 
to  go  to  his  club  in  the  evening.  She  was  too  pleased 
at  his  having  given  a  willing  consent  to  risk  a  jar. 

"  Then  I  will  go  to  my  agent  at  once.  Oh,  I  hope 
he  won't  be  full  up  !  I  am  longing  to  be  in  the  field 
again." 

"  You  haven't  been  out  of  it  long,  dear.  But  I 
entirely  sympathize  with  you.  I,  too,  long  to  be  at 
work  again ;  work  would  prolong  my  life,  I  believe. 
If  I  could  only  lay  my  hand  on  a  couple  of  hundred 
pounds,  I  could  invest  it  in  a  way  that  would  make  a 
new  man  of  me." 

"  Not  on  a  horse,  James  ?  " 

"  Not  on  a  horse — oh  no  !  "  He  knit  his  brow,  and 
looked  abstractedly  into  the  fire  as  he  went  on  :  "  It's  a 
single  share  in  a  genuine  old-established  business  house 
that  is  paying  fifty  per  cent." 

"  I  will  lend  you  the  two  hundred,"  she  said  quickly. 

She  was  so  elated  at  going  back  to  the  profession  that 
was  the  best  part  of  her  life,  that  every  generous  impulse 
was  quickened,  and  she  did  not  jmuse  to  make  cautious 
inquiries. 

"  You  are  a  brick  !  "  he  said,  taking  her  hand  and 
kissing  it. 

Five  minutes  later  ho  was  in  possession  of  the  cheque, 
and  she  was  saying  joyfully  : 

"And  now  for  my  agent." 

"Upon  my  word,  she  is  a  brick  !"  Mr.  Clifford  said 


Flight.  147 

of  his  wife,  as  about  an  hour  after  ho  started  with  tho 
cheque  ia  his  pocket-book  to  the  otlioe  of  the  man  with 
whom  he  was  going  to  negotiate  for  the  purcluise  of  the 
share  in  the  old-establislied  business  that  paid  such  a 
good  percentage. 

It  Avas  a  genuine  thing.  For  once,  ^[r.  Clifford  liud 
spoken  neither  more  nor  less  than  the  truth  in  describ- 
ing it,  and  his  intentions  regarding  it.  The  chance  had 
been  put  in  his  way  by  a  young  member  of  the  firm 
who  had  known  and  been  impressed  by  Clifford  in  tliose 
other  days  when  Clifford  was  a  swell,  and  the  young 
business  man  was  a  young  business  man  merely. 

"  She's  a  brick,  and  I'll  repay  her  fairly,"  he  re- 
peated to  liimself. 

Then  he  stopped  to  look  at  the  last  Avar  news  which 
was  posted  up,  and  as  ho  was  reading  it  a  man  greeted 
him  heartily. 

*'  Glad  to  see  you,  Clifford,  and  to  sec  you  looking 
so  much  better  !  Got  anything  on  your  friend  the 
Geisha  ?  " 

"'So.  "Where  is  she  ?  I  haven't  been  following  her 
up." 

''That's  just  Avhat  you  should  have  been  doing. 
She's  all  your  fancy  painted  her,  and  a  good  deal  more. 
Come  on  to  the  club." 

Clifford  went  on  to  the  club,  and  found  that  he  was 
not  too  late  to  back  the  Geisha.  The  result  would  bo 
known  at  two  o'clock  ;  he  would  not  have  long  to  wait 
for  it.  And — well,  it  Avas  a  quicker  and  easier  Avay  of 
making  money  and  cnalding  him  to  return  his  Avife's 
loan  than  by  buying  a  share  in  a  City  business,  Avhich 
now  seemed  to  him  paltry. 

«  «  *  i<  *  * 


148  Comrades  True. 

Stella  was  not  distressed,  nor  was  she  even  very  sorry, 
when  she  found  that  Stanley  had  gone  without  any  last 
words  for  any  one  of  them.  She  was  full  to  overflow- 
ing of  kindly  feeling  towards  him,  but  she  understood 
now  that  he  would  always  have  checked  and  chilled 
her  at  such  times,  perhaps,  when  she  could  least  bear 
check  or  chill.  She  even  admitted  to  herself  that,  had 
they  come  together — as  now  and  again  he  had  made  her 
think  and  hope  they  would — she  might  have  grown  to 
be  afraid  of  him,  or,  rather,  afraid  of  offending  him, 
and  so  have  grown  nervous  in  his  presence. 

She  liked  him  so  much,  she  respected  him  so  much, 
that  she  would  have  liked  to  have  heard  some  good 
words  of  encouragement  from  him  on  this  day  when 
she  was  going  to  pledge  herself  to  marry  another  man. 
But  as  by  his  departure  he  had  put  that  possibility  out 
of  the  question,  she  would  not  permit  herself  to  think 
that  he  "  might  have  been  kinder,"  but  stuck  up  for 
him  loyally  both  in  heart  and  words. 

"  He  is  so  eager  for  work,  he  does  so  loathe  idleness, 
that  he  has  gone  off  to  do  it  before  he  is  quite  fit  for  it. 
And  he  would  have  been  so  fit  if  I  had  not  been  the 
cause  of  the  accident,"  she  explained  anxiously  to  Mrs. 
Ogilvie  and  St.  Errol  when  the  latter  told  her  that 
Stanley  was  gone. 

"  I  hope  he  will  get  the  work  that  he  wants  ;  but  it's 
hard  to  get.  All  the  best  papers  have  their  own  men, 
and  he  won't  go  on  a  second-rate  paper.  Poor  chap  ! 
as  he  meant  going,  he  ought  to  have  gone  six  weeks 
ago  ;  then  he  would  have  gone  to  the  fore  in  leaps  and 
bounds.  He  sees  the  comedy  and  tragedy  in  every- 
thing, and  puts  each  before  you  as  vividly  with  his  pen 
as  with  his  pencil." 


Flight.  149 

St.  Errol  was  missing  liis  comrade  already.  Every- 
thing might  have,  ought  to  liave,  arranged  itself  so 
perfectly.  Xow  a  girl's  whim  or  want  of  purpose  had 
npset  everything. 

*'  I  think  Mr.  Stanley  will  always  get  what  lie  really 
wants,"  Stella  said  quietly. 

*'  You  do  ?    Why  ?  " 

**  Because  I  tliiuk  if  he  really  wants  anything,  ho 
has  the  power  to  take  it.  liut  when  ho  halts  between 
two  opinions,  he'll  be  likely  to  lose  what  he  tliinks  ho 
wants  to  get.'' 

**  Fascinating  little  analyst  of  character  as  you  arc," 
St.  Errol  said  laughingly,  "you  know  nothing  of  the 
one  you're  trying  to  dissect.  lie  never  halts  between 
two  opinions.  He  discerns  at  a  glance  if  a  man  is 
straight  in  every  way  or  not,  and  if  he  isn't  straight, 
Stanley  will  have  none  of  him." 

**  And  how  about  a  woman  ?"  Stella  asked. 

*'  He  could  never  give  a  thought  to  one  who  wasn't 
straight,  thought  he  might  have  to  give  her  up  ;  that 
question  is  easily  answered." 

"  Yes,  so  easily,"  Stella  assented.  ''  He's  a  real 
knight.  I  can't  imagine  our — your  being  here  without 
liim." 


"  Bentick  has  sent  me  a  note,  saying  he  will  call  hero 
at  one,  and  hopes  I  can  see  liim.  I  must  say  yes,  and 
ask  iiim  to  luncheon,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  mustn't 
I  ?"  St.  Errul  asked  Mrs.  Ogilvie,  when  Stelhi  strolled 
out  of  the  breakfast-room  with  the  intiiilion  of  taking 
a  good  long  walk. 

"And  say    it  all  graciously,"    Mrs.   Ugilvie    replied 


i5o  Comrades  True. 

promptly.  "  She  has  a  marvelous  power  of  enjoyment 
and  happiness,  and  an  equally  marvelous  power  of 
misery  and  pain.  Give  her  all  the  brightness  you  can 
now  ;  the  clouds  will  lower  soon  enough." 

"Kot  one  shall  pass  over  her  head  that  I  can  avert," 
he  said  warmly.  ''  Still — forgive  me,  I  must  say  it — I 
think  it  shows  a  slightly  vacillating  nature,  a  little  in- 
stability of  character,  that  she  should  have  resigned 
Stanley  without  an  effort  to  retain  him,  and  surrendered 
to  Bentick  at  the  first  attack." 

"  Did  Mr.  Stanley  show  that  he  wished  to  be  retained  ? 
No  !  He  wrapped  himself  up  in  reserve  that  befogged 
Stella.  He  has  had  a  hundred  chances,  and  has  not 
taken  them.  Captain  Bentick  had  one,  and  took  it 
like  a  man." 

"  Poor  old  boy  !  He  and  I  are  in  the  same  boat," 
St.  Errol  said,  with  a  laugh,  in  which  there  was  not  a 
particle  of  merriment.  "  I  hope  he'll  be  lucky  enough 
to  get  a  billet  on  some  paper,  and  go  out  to  the  war ; 
but  the  nuisance  of  it  is  that  all  the  good  ones  are 
filled  already  by  true  and  tried  men." 

Mrs.  Ogilvie  shuddered  involuntarily. 

"  Poor  Stella  has  that  bitterness  before  her.  Her 
lover  is  to  sail  in  a  fortnight,"  she  said  sadly. 

"  Lucky  fellow  !  " 

"  Yes  ;  one  can't  wish  a  soldier  to  stay  at  home  at 
case,  when  thousands  of  his  fellows  are  fighting  for 
such  a  splendid  cause.  But,  still,  I  say  again,  poor 
Stella  !  " 

''  She'll  bear  it  like  a  brick — outwardly,  at  any  rate," 
St.  Errol  said  with  conviction. 

As  he  spoke,  Stella  came  flying  back  into  the  room, 
an  open  telegram  in  her  hand. 


Flight.  151 

"  Fve  had  this  from  :\Irs.  Clifford  !  Isn't  it  lovely  ? 
She's  iu  London.     She's " 

"Want  of  breath  stopped  her,  and  she  gave  tlie  tele- 
gram into  St.  Errol's  hand.  What  ho  read  made  him 
throb  with  pleasure  and  pain. 


CHAPTER  XVIL 

GOOD    RESOLUTIONS, 

Whek  Mr.  Clifford  had  started  from  home  with  his 
wife's  cheque  in  his  pocket,  he  had  about  him  the 
proud  consciousness  of  being  full  of  manly,  upright, 
honorable  resolutions  concerning  the  disposal  of  it. 

He  saw  prospectively  a  home  founded  on  the  rock  of 
safe,  remunerative  commercial  integrity,  and  it  almost 
brought  the  tears  to  his  eyes  to  think  how  grateful  his 
wife  would  be  and  ought  to  be  to  him  for  the  foresight 
and  acumen  he  meant  to  display  in  the  investment  of 
her  little  savings.  In  fact,  he  believed  himself  to  be  a 
thoroughly  good,  noble-hearted  fellow,  and  determined 
that  as  soon  as  the  profits  began  to  pour  in  he  would 
withdraw  his  consent  to  his  wife's  singing  in  public  and 
make  her  stay  at  home  in  the  evenings  to  amuse  him. 

Then  he  turned  into  the  club  with  the  man  who  had 
stirred  up  his  memories  of,  and  former  ambitions  about, 
the  Geisha,  and  betted  freely  with  men  who  could  put 
down  a  hundred  pounds  to  his  one  at  any  time.  At 
length  he  stood  to  win  very  heavily — if  the  mare  was 
first  at  the  post,  as  she  was  sure  to  be.  Very  soon 
"  All  the  winners  !"  was  being  shouted  out,  and  when 
he  eagerly  secured  the  sporting  sheet  the  Geisha  was 
seen  to  be  the  last  horse  in. 
152 


Good  Resolutions.  153 

He  went  ont  of  the  club  owing  two  hundred  pounds 
in  excess  of  the  cheque  his  wife  liad  given  hitu  in  the 
morning,  and  with  the  ideal  liome  and  tlie  scheme  of 
his  wife  being  kept  at  home  in  the  evening  being 
smaslied  to  atoms.  So  with  a  speedy  change  of  front 
lie  assured  himself  that  she  was  so  devoted  to  her  art 
that  the  more  she  was  permitted  to  practise  it  tlie 
better  slie  would  be  pleased,  and  magnanimously  re- 
solved to  encourage  her  to  exert  herself  to  tlie  utmost. 

Then  he  went  back  to  their  lodgings,  and  relapsed 
into  the  blackest  low  spirits. 

She  was  in  a  hopeful,  almost  a  light-hearted,  vein 
when  she  came  home.  The  interview  with  her  agent 
had  been  highly  satisfactory.  He  was  able  to  offer  her 
many  and  good  engagements  in  the  immediate  present, 
and  to  liold  out  the  prospect  of  very  much  better  ones 
in  the  near  future.     This  pleased  the  artist  part  of  her. 

The  womanly  part  was  gratified  also.  It  was  good 
to  know  that  at  last  her  lazy,  ne'er-do-well  husband 
was  going  to  do  something  better  than  bet  and  gamble. 
He  had  seemed  so  sincere  and  hopeful  that  she  could 
not  help  being  sanguine. 

Besides  tliis,  slie  had  anotlier  source  of  pleasure. 
She  was  engaged  to  sing  at  a  concert  in  Manchester. 
St.  P'rrol  Castle  was  within  easy  distance  l)y  train  of 
Manchester,  and  she  guessed  tliat  by  this  time  Stella 
would  be  there.  So  she  sent  a  wire  to  Miss  St.  Errol, 
giving  lier  the  date  and  time  of  the  concert,  and  asking 
her  to  be  tliere,  and  to  come  round  to  the  artists' 
room. 

Having  done  this,  she  went  home  to  find  Mr.  CJlilTord 
'' prostrated,"  as  h(i  termed  it,  and  raging  against  fate. 
She  did  not  rcproa'h  hnu  vcrljully,  nor  did  she  assume 


154  Comrades  True. 

the  air  of  a  suffering  martyr.  Either  would  have  been 
thrown  away  uj)on  him,  she  knew,  and  would  only  have 
given  him  an  excuse  for  being  more  irritable  and  cap- 
tious than  he  was  already.  She  only  said,  "I  know 
you  don't  like  to  see  anything  like  needful  needlework 
going  on,  James.  But  I  must  look  over  and  renovate 
two  or  three  of  my  concert  dresses,  and  this  is  the  only 
place  I  can  do  them  in.  I  won't  make  more  scraj)s  of 
ribbon  and  chiffon  than  I  can  help." 

"  I  should  have  thought  you  would  find  it  more  prof- 
itable to  study,  and  to  give  your  dresses  into  the  hands 
of  a  skilled  dressmaker.  But  don't  mind  me.  If  I 
have  a  corner  of  the  room  in  which  to  eat  my  bread 
and  cheese  by  and  by,  that  will  be  qnite  good  enough 
for  me." 

She  could  not  suppress  the  angry  contempt  which 
flashed  into  her  eyes,  and  curled  her  lip  as  she  listened 
to  this,  and  thought  of  the  thousands  of  our  splendid, 
gallant  soldiers  of  all  ranks  who,  for  long  hours  fraught 
with  deadly  peril,  had  to  do  without  the  scrap  of  bread 
and  cheese,  much  more  the  quiet  corner  in  which  to 
eat  it. 

"By  the  wtiy,"  he  said  presently,  when  she  was  deep 
in  the  consideration  of  how  she  could  conjure  some 
travel-stains  and  crumples  out  of  one  of  her  most  effec- 
tive dresses — ''  by  the  way,  hasn't  that  fellow  you  used 
to  know  a  place  somewhere  near  Manchester  ?  " 

''He  has.     Errol  Castle." 

"  It  would  be  rather  a  civil  thing  if  he  asked  you  to 
stay  there.  I  heard  from  a  man  that  he  has  just  got 
his  ward  and  her  chaperon  staying  with  him,  and  that 
the  ward  is  a  very  pretty  girl." 

"  She  is  a  very  lovely  girl." 


Good  Resolutions.  155 

"How  do  you  kuow  ? ''  he  usked,  with  quick  sus- 
picion. 

*'  Because  her  Late  guardian,  old  Lord  St.  Errol,  en- 
gaged me  as  her  governess,  and  directly  I  arrived  at 
Rose-in- Vale,  his  other  place,  he  took  a  dislike  to  me, 
and  gave  me  notice  to  leave  next  day." 

"  Dismissed  you  !  like  his  cheek  to  dismiss  w//  wife. 
If  he  were  alive  he  should  answer  for  it  to  me,"  said  Mr. 
Clifford,  with  the  ominous  spots  aflame  on  either 
cheek. 

It  was  hardly  worth  her  while  to  remind  him  that 
her  own  husband  had  treated  her  infinitely  more  insult- 
ingly than  old  Lord  St.  Errol  had  done. 

After  brooding  over  this  latest  affront  to  his  dignity 
in  silence,  he  said  :  "I  think  I  had  better  go  with  you 
to  Manchester,  just  to  let  them  see  that  you  have  a 
husband  quite  ready  to  and  capable  of  taking  care   of 

you." 

Her  blood  ran  cold  in  her  veins  at  the  prospect. 
Her  prophetic  soul  told  her  that  he  would  cavil  at  all 
business  arrangements,  and  more  than  likely  say  dis- 
paraging things  about  the  rest  of  the  company.  More- 
over, she  would  liave  none  of  that  sweet  perfect  peace 
and  rest  which  is  so  essential  to  an  artist  after  an  even- 
ing's exertion.  However,  as  she  knew  from  the  ex- 
perience of  long  ago  that  it  was  useless  to  reason  or  ex- 
postulate with  him  when  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to 
pursue  any  course,  she  combined  the  wisdom  of  the 
serpent  with  the  softness  of  the  dove,  and  went  on  with 
her  work  without  a  M'ord. 

This  absence  of  all  opposition  to  his  })roi)osal  was 
disconcerting,  as  the  idea  of  making  a  bargain  that 
should  be  good  fur  himself  with  her   had   struck   him. 


156  Comrades  True. 

He  knew  that  it  would  be  disadvantageous  to  her  pro- 
fessionally that  he  should  accompany  her  on  the  pro- 
jected concert  tour,  as  he  was  unable  to  refrain  from  mak- 
ing himself  intensely  disagreeable  to  every  one  around 
him.  But  if  she  showed  aversion  to  the  plan,  he  was  quite 
prepared  to  let  her  buy  him  off.  He  would  remain  be- 
hind a  lonely,  unhappy  man,  on  condition  she  let  him 
have  another  two  hundred  pounds.  He  had  not  con- 
fided the  fact  to  her  that  he  had  lost  two  hundred  more 
than  the  cheque  for  that  sum  which  she  had  given  him, 
and  he  thought  now  that  if  she  gave  him  what  he 
asked  for  he  could  pay  his  debts  of  honor,  and  she 
would  be  none  the  wiser  for  it. 

His  cough  was  very  bad,  really  bad  ;  there  was  no 
sham  or  pretense  about  that.  She  began  to  pity  him 
very  much  for  what  he  would  necessarily  endure  in 
traveling  in  this  dank  weather,  and  in  the  possibly 
damp,  and  more  than  probably  uncomfortable,  quar- 
ters in  which  they  would  have  to  put  up  during  the  tour. 

"Poor  James  !"  she  said  at  last,  '^'^  if  I  could  feel 
sure  that  you  would  be  well  catered  for  and  warmed  all 
the  time,  I  would  certainly  say  come  on  tour  with  me. 
But  we  are  going  to  little  out-of-the-way  towns  as  well 
as  big  ones,  and  we  must  take  what  we  can  get  wher- 
ever we  go.  I  believe  the  management  is  good,  but  I 
don't  know,  and  you're  really  not  strong  enough  to 
rough  it.  Had  you  not  better  stay  here  ?  Our  land- 
lady is  a  good  woman,  and  will  look  after  your  com- 
fort. Shall  I  make  arrangements  with  her,  James  ? 
Will  you  stay  here  ?  '' 

This  was  the  opportunity  he  wanted  and  worked  up 
for  ;  but  he  was  wary  from  force  of  habit  and  deceitful 
by  preference.     For  an  hour  he  affected  to  be  deeply 


Good  Resolutions.  157 

liurt  at  what  lie  called  her  '' evident  repugnance  to  hav- 
ing him  liini  with  her."  At  the  end  of  the  hour  he  told 
her  that  **  perhaps  she  was  right ;  perhaps  he  would  he 
only  a  hindrance  to  her  work." 

"But  I  can't  stay  here  in  solitude  and  idleness,"  ho 
went  on  ;  ''at  present  I  am  only  a  sleeping  jiartner  in 
the  business  I  spoke  to  you  about.  But  if  I  could  jtiit 
my  hand  on  another  two  hundred  pounds,  I  could  take 
an  active  share  in  the  management,  and  make  a  very 
good  thing  of  it.  I  could  get  a  lot  of  fellows  in  my 
own  set  to  the  firm  as  customers — fellows  who,  if  they 
knew  I  should  benefit  by  it,  would  give  the  business  a 
good  fillip." 

"  You  are  not  a  business  man  ;  don't  you  think  yon 
had  better  remain  a  sleeping  partner  only  ?  " 

"  It's  not  kind  to  throw  cold  water  on  my  scheme. 
The  man  who  first  mooted  the  matter  to  me  thinks  I 
have  a  remarkable  capacity  for  business,  and  he  has  an 
unerring  commercial  instinct.  However,  as  you  think 
you  know  better,  wc  will  say  no  more  about  it.  You 
will  have  only  yourself  to  blame  when  the  chance  is 
gone  and  we  fall  into  an  abyss  of  poverty,  out  of  which 
no  efforts  of  mine  will  avail  to  extricate  us." 

"  What  is  it  you  want  ?  Will  you  tell  me  plainly, 
James  ?  " 

**  I  told  you  as  plainly  as  possible  that  I  wanted  two 
hundred  pounds.  With  that  sum  I  sliould  feel  a  new 
man." 

'•  I  will  try  to  let  you  have  it,  but  it  will  cripple  me 
very  much." 

''You'll  have  your  nalary  to  kecj)  you  going,  and  I 
Bhall  very  soon  be  in  a  position  to  refund  you  what  you 
80  grudgingly  lend  me." 


158  Comrades  True. 

"  If  I  leud  it  to  yoU;,  will  you  give  up  betting  and 
racing  ?  " 

"  On  my  word  of  honor  I  will/'  he  promised  glibly  ; 
and  she  lent  him  the  money  and  tried  to  believe  him. 

He  paid  his  debts  of  honor,  and  then  cast  about  in  his 
mind  for  a  possible  source  of  further  supj)lies.  For- 
tunately— or  perhaps  the  reverse — he  met  a  young  fel- 
low who  had  lately  come  into  a  large  and  utterly  unex- 
pected property.  He  was  brimming  over  with  liberal 
feeling  towards  all  his  less  lucky  fellow-creatures.  He 
was  likewise  brimming  over  with  the  lavishness  that 
undue  quantities  of  champagne  is  liable  to  engender. 

The  two  men  spent  a  pleasant  morning  and  lunched 
together.  They  then  went  to  look  at  half  a  dozen 
hunters  and  likely  colts  that  the  young  Croesus  had 
lately  purchased.  Mr.  Clifford  admired  the  lot  in  ju- 
dicious terms,  and  when  they  parted  Mr.  Clifford  had 
his  young  friend's  cheque  for  five  hundred  pounds  in 
his  pocket. 

He  went  home  in  such  high  spirits  and  such  a  happy, 
generous  mood,  that  his  wife  reproached  herself  for 
having  hesitated  to  lend  him  the  money  which  he  had 
apparently  turned  to  such  good  account.  He  really 
had  invested  a  portion  of  it  in  the  business  of  which  he 
had  spoken,  and  he  felt  himself  to  be  such  a  good  fel- 
low for  having  done  it,  that  he  made  his  wife  a  present 
of  twenty  pounds'  worth  of  Parisian  diamonds  exquis- 
itely set  in  fine  gold,  and  told  her  that  it  would  be  a 
satisfaction  to  him  to  know  that  "  she  would  shine  with 
the  best "  in  the  many  hours  of  solitude  to  which  he 
was  looking  forward  with  complacency. 

"1  hate  London  !"  he  assured  her,  wdien  she  was 
starting  for  Manchester  ;  "but  the  climate  here  is  the 


Good  Resolutions.  159 

only  English  one  I  can  stand.  Perhaps  next  year  we 
may  try  tlie  Italian  Riviera  for  a  change  ;  we  certainly 
will  if  this  bnsiness  turns  out  half  as  well  as  I  expect." 
She  knew  that  London  was  the  only  place  in  England 
in  which  he  would  live,  unless  he  could  stay  in  country 
houses  for  big  shoots  and  hunting.  But  she  kejjt  her 
knowledge  to  herself,  and  went  otf  in  a  comparatively 
happy  frame  of  mind  to  ^Manchester. 


The  interview  between  the  inexperienced  guardian 
and  the  impulsive  lover  had  passed  off.  It  appeared  as 
if  the  course  of  the  latter's  true  love  was  to  run  very 
smoothly  indeed.  Ilis  own  people  were  delighted  that 
he  had,  as  they  said,  chosen  a  girl  after  their  own 
hearts.  Lord  St.  Errol  was  delighted  that  the  girl  he 
had  grown  to  love  with  a  real  brotherly  affection  was 
supremely  happy,  in  spite  of  her  wilful  misery-making 
for  herself  about  trifles,  and  in  spite,  also,  of  the  baflled 
and  mortified  feeling  she  must  have  endured  about 
Stanley.  The  one  drawback  to  this  felicity — there 
must  always  be  a  drawback — was  thart  in  a  fortnight 
or  ten  days  Captain  Beutick  Avas  to  sail  for  South 
Africa. 

Stella  was  a  high-couraged  girl.  She  never  weakened 
or  worried  those  about  her  by  any  disjjlay  of  tearful 
emotion  or  unreasonable  repining.  Erom  the  first  she 
realized  that  a  soldier's  wife  or  mother  must  make  his 
soldiering  the  first  and  paramount  interest  of  her  life, 
the  interest  to  which  her  feelings  and  emotions  must  bo 
entirely  subordinated.  Tiiis  had  beeii  her  theory  before 
bIio  had  linked  her  life  with  Basil  lientick's,  and  she 
put  that  theory  into  practise  now  that  she  knew  tliat 


i6o  Comrades  True. 

the  life  Avhich  was  dearer  to  her  than  her  own  would 
soon  be  in  the  deadliest  danger.  It  is  of  such  women 
that  heroes  are  born. 

Naturally  they  both  wished  to  be  married  before  he 
went,  and  the  old  Benticks  were  as  keen  about  it  as 
their  nephew  was. 

"  Let  her  have  the  right  to  openly  glory  or  grieve  for 
me,"  Captain  Bentick  pleaded  to  the  anything  but 
inexorable  guardian. 

So  within  a  day  or  two  a  special  license  was  got,  and 
in  a  whirl  of  happiness,  dread,  and  excitement  Stella 
looked  forward  to  being  made  the  wife  of  the  man  she 
loved  so  desperately  and  stanchly  two  days  after  the 
Manchester  concert  at  which  Madame  Dalma  was  to 
sing. 

*  ***** 

"  You'll  come  with  us  ?  "  the  girl  pleaded  very  pret- 
tily to  her  guardian.  "  Basil  and  I  will  enjoy  it  so 
much  more  if  you're  there." 

''  And  if  I  am  there  I  mustn't  speak  to  her,  Stella. 
Don't  tempt  me  to  go.  I'll  take  any  number  of  tickets 
you  like  to  get  for  me  ;  but  I  won't  go  and  force  myself 
on  her  notice,  and  so  make  her  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  I  am  either  a  fool  or  a  scoundrel." 

"  How  you  make  me  love  you  ! "  Stella  said.  "^  You 
are  so  right  and  I  am  so  wrong  in  wishing  you  to  go. 
But — I  can't  help  wishing." 

"  Think  of  your  own  happy  future,  my  dear  girl,  and 
don't  trouble  yourself  about  my  less  happy  one.  Come, 
you  dear  little  bride-elect,  don't  draw  despondent  lines 
round  the  corners  of  your  mouth." 

"I'm  not  despondent,  I'm  too  happy.     How  can  I 


Good  Resolutions.  i6i 

dare  to  be  happy  with  that  before  me  ?  "  She  pointed 
to  the  list  of  "  killed,  wounded  and  missing  "  in  the  last 
battle.  "  But  I  am  happy,  and  I  am  proud,"  she  went 
on.  *■•  Is  that  wrong.  St.  Errol  ?  I  think  Basil  would 
be  sick  of  the  sight  of  me  if  I  quailed  now." 
II 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE   EVE   OF  THE  WEDDIlfG. 

The  night  of  the  Manchester  concert  was  as  bright, 
bracing,  and  beautiful  as  a  winter  night  can  be.  The 
atmosphere  was  infectious,  and  so  the  whole  company- 
were  bright  and  well  braced  ;  while  the  lady  members 
of  it  were  bright  and  beautiful,  partly  by  reason  of  the 
house  being  filled  to  overflowing,  and  partly  because 
their  dresses  and  jewelry  were  lovely — at  night. 

The  Errol  Castle  people  were  there  in  great  force. 
St.  Errol  had,  chiefly  at  Stella's  instigation,  overcome 
his  hyperhonorable  objections  to  even  look  at  or  hear 
Madame  Dalma  again. 

"It  will  be  braver  to  go  than  to  stay  away,"  she  had 
declared.  "If  you  stay  away,  she  will  think  that  you 
are  caring  for  her  dreadfully  still,  and  that  would  upset 
her,  poor  dear  !  Now,  you  wouldn't  like  to  do  that, 
would  you  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not  ;  I'll  go,"  he  said  ;  and  go  he  did, 
together  with  Mrs.  Ogilvie,  Stella,  and  the  Benticks. 

Madame  Dalma  had  sent  another  telegram  to  Stella, 

asking  the  latter  not  to  go  round  to  the  artists'  room 

until  after  her  (Dalma's)  second  song.     Therefore  the 

greater  part  of  the  first  half  of  the  concert  was  weariness 

162 


the  Eve  of  Tlic  Wedding.  103 

and  vexation  of  spirit  to  Stella  and  St.  Errol,  for  Mii 
dame  Dalina  was  down  in  it  for  only  one  number.  They 
were  both  too  impatient  for  her  to  come  on  to  appre- 
ciate the  efforts,  however  laiulaiile  ami  excellent,  of 
those  who  i)receded  lier.  And  after  hearing  her.  they 
conld  not  think  of,  or  listen  to,  her  successors. 

At  length  the  time  came  wlien  Stella  was  free  to  go 
and  seek  the  friend  for  wiiom  she  entertained  such  a 
strangely  strong  sympathetic  regard. 

A  few  artists  and  their  friends  were  standing  about, 
chatting  and  laughing  merrily,  when  Miss  St.  Errol 
went  into  the  artists'  room.  The  scene  was  quite  a 
novel  one  to  her,  and  for  a  moment  or  two  she  felt  be- 
wildered. She  wondered  why  Mrs.  Clifford  did  not 
come  to  meet  her.  But  just  as  she  was  straining  her 
eyes  in  all  directions,  and  beginning  to  make  eager 
inquiries  of  the  person  nearest  to  her,  she  caught  sight 
of  Dalma  reading  a  telegram  by  the  light  of  an  electric 
lamp,  looking  agitated  and  unhappy. 

With  tlie  sympathetic  tact  that  is  born  of  good  feel- 
ing as  well  as  good  breeding,  the  girl  abstained  from 
noticing  the  emotion  which  was  nearly  overcoming  her 
friend.  They  greeted  each  other  warmly  as  ever,  and 
then,  after  heartily  congratulating  the  diva  on  the  ex- 
quisite way  in  which  she  had  sang  that  night,  Stella 
began  to  pour  out  her  tale  of  joy  and  love. 

**  I  am  to  be  nuirried  to-morrow,"  she  was  beginning, 
when  Mrs.  Clifford  interrupted  by  saying  : 

'*  How  soon — how  very  soon  I "' 

"  Not  a  bit  too  soon,  you  will  allow,  when  I  tell  you 
that  my  fiance  is  a  soldier,  and  is  under  orders  for 
South  Africa.  That  is  the  pity  of  it  :  he  won't  let  mo 
go   willi   him,  and    we   shall    be   parted    in   a  few  days. 


164  Comrades  TruCo 

But  other  brides  have  to  bear  the  same  trouble,  and  I 
mean  to  show  that  I'm  a  real  soldier's  wife." 

"  How  long  has  he  been  a  soldier  ?  "  Dalma  asked 
quietly. 

''Oh,  for  years  and  years — I  don't  know  how  many. 
But  he's  Captain  Bentick  now.  I  forgot  !  You  don't 
know  anything  about  him  or  my  engagement.  It  all 
came  about  so  suddenly.  Yon  must  let  me  bring  him 
round  after  the  concert,  and  introduce  him  to  you. 
He's  in  the  front  row,  with  Mrs.  Ogilvie  and  my 
guardian,  and  his  uncle  and  aunt.  You'll  think  him 
a  dear  fellow,  I  know." 

"  I  am  sure  I  shall.  But  I  have  just  had  a  telegram, 
whicli  will  take  me  back  to  town  by  the  first  train  after 
my  last  song." 

"  Oh  no,  you  mustn't  go  ;  you  must  stay  here  and 
see  me  married.     You  will,  won't  you  ?  "  Stella  pleaded. 

''  I  must  give  up  everything,  business  as  well  as  pleas- 
ure. This  is  from  my  landlady,  telling  me  that  Mr. 
Clifford  is  much  worse,  and  that  I  must  go  back  at 
once." 

"  I  am  very,  very  sorry.     It  is  sad  for  you." 

"  I  have  very  little  but  sadness  to  enconnter.  But 
this  particular  bit  of  it  is  inevitable  ;  he  can't  help 
being  ill,  poor  fellow  !  " 

Stella  nodded  her  head  in  grave  acquiescence  with 
this  proposition.  He  certainly  could  not  help  being 
ill,  but  he  certainly  could  have  helped  treating  his  wife 
in  days  of  yore  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  going  back  to 
him  now  when  he  was  suffering  a  matter  of  sadness  to 
her. 

St.  Errol,  without  having  any  desire  to  depreciate 
Mr.  Clifford  in  the  eyes  of  his  ward,  had  thrown  more 


The   Eve  of  The  Wedding.  165 

than  one  siugularly  unbecoming  sidehglit  on  tliat 
gentleman.  Stella  was  nothing  if  not  a  warm  partisan 
of  any  person  or  cause  to  whom  and  which  she  had 
once  given  in  her  adhesion.  Slie  liad  given  in  this  to 
Mrs.  Clifford  and  St.  Errol  with  all  her  heart  and  soul. 
Their  views  were  her  views  ;  their  wrongs  and  animos- 
ities were  hers.  She  felt  as  if  Mr.  ClilTord  had  wronged 
her  deeply  now,  by  recalling  his  wife  jnst  as  that  wife 
was  specially  wanted  to  attend  a  friend's  wedding. 

*'  You  must  let  us  take  you  to  the  station  and  sec  you 
off.  Remember,  this  is  the  last  favor  I  ask  of  you 
before  I'm  married." 

This  Stella  whispered  as  it  came  to  Dalnia's  turn  to 
go  on  again. 

Dalma  shook  hur  head. 

"  I  had  better  and  would  rather  go  alone.  Mr. 
Clifford  is  in  a  very  critical  state,  1  fear,  and  it  would 
ill-become  me  to  go  off  in  obedience  to  the  recall  in 
anything  but  the  quietest  way.  Now  go,  dear.  I 
shall  bo  with  you  in  spirit,  though  not  in  the  flesh,  to- 
morrow." 

Dalma  sang  her  last  song  gloriously.  It  was  a  very 
pathetic  one,  and  the  pathos  in  her  face  and  manner 
as  well  as  in  her  voice  touched  her  audience  deejily. 
Volleys  of  applanse  greeted  her  as  she  fiuisiied,  but  she 
would  not  obey  a  recall,  much  less  take  an  encore.  She 
bowed  definitely,  and  did  not  reap])ear,  and  as  they 
went  liome  that  night  Stella  told  St.  Errol  the  reason 
of  her  (Mrs.  Clifford's)  abrupt  departure. 

lie  looked  grave  and  sad  as  he  listened,  hut  he 
cheered  up  almost  at  once,  and  said  they  "must  not 
teach  on  gloomy  topics  again  before  the  wedding." 
Each  one  indorsed  this  opinion,  whatever  each  indi- 


1 66  Comrades  True. 

vidual  felt.  Never  a  doubt  or  fear  had  as  yet  assailed 
the  hearts  of  the  young  couple  who  were  so  soon  to  be 
united,  though  they  knew  that  close  on  the  union  must 
come  a  separation.  They  lived  in  the  brilliant  present 
and  the  bright  immediate  future,  and  would  not  have 
exchanged  their  prospects  for  those  of  any  crowned  head 
in  Europe. 

The  Bentick  party  and  the  Castle  Errol  people  had 
to  part  company  at  the  station  nearest  to  the  last  place. 

"  Never  mind,  darling  :  to-morrow  you  will  be  my 
ioife,"  Basil  Bentick  whispered,  when  Stella  gave  a 
gasping  sigh  as  she  was  bidding  him  good  night. 

She  threw  her  head  up  with  a  joroud,  triumphant, 
happy  gesture.     That  was  his  parting  glimpse  of  her. 

'Tor  only  a  few  hours,''  he  told  himself  joyously. 

Once  or  twice  on  the  rest  of  their  way  home  Mrs. 
Bentick  swallowed  her  own  emotions,  and  struggled 
gallantly  to  enter  into  those  of  mingled  love  and  pride 
and  impatience  which  her  nephew  was  displaying.  The 
love  and  pride  were  freely,  frankly  bestowed  upon  Stella. 
The  impatience  was  to  be  "  off  to  the  front,  to  have  his 
share  in  it  all,  not  to  let  other  fellows  have  the  best  of 
the  sjjort." 

He  was  her  own  dear  nephew,  dear  as  a  son  to  the 
childless  Avoman,  and  her  grief  at  parting  with  him  on 
the  errand  he  was  so  anxious  to  depart  upon  was  great. 
But  even  greater  was  the  sorrow  she  felt  for  the  young 
life  that  was  so  soon  to  be  bound  up  in  his,  perhaps 
only  to  be  blighted. 

Stella  had  no  forebodings.  The  only  crumple  in  her 
rose-leaf,  the  only  drop  of  bitter  in  her  sweet  cup  of 
happiness,  was  that  Mrs.  Clifford  could  not  come  to  the 
vredding  on  the  following  day. 


Tlic   Eve  of  The  Wedding.  167 

The  wedding-dress  and  all  its  appointments,  the 
jewels  of  every  description,  the  cases  of  silver  and  gold, 
the  furs  and  laces,  were  all  laid  out  in  a  room  adjoining 
her  boudoir. 

Late  as  it  was  when  they  reached  Castle  Errol  that 
night  after  the  concert,  it  was  Stella's  fancy  that  Mrs. 
Ogilvie  and  St.  Errol  should  go  with  her  to  look  at 
some  presents  from  the  Bentick  side  which  had  arrived 
during  her  ivbseuce. 

**  Let  us  go,  and  get  to  rest,  n^y  darling  girl.  l\c- 
member,  you  must  look  your  beautiful  best  to-morrow, 
and  it  is  so  late  already,"  Mrs.  Ogilvie  protested  when 
Stella  had  called  for  their  attention  to  a  hundred  things, 
and  was  going  over  them  again. 

"  Wait  a  little  longer.  I  feel  I  can't  be  left  alone  to- 
night. There's  something  coming  to  me  ;  I  know  it 
— I  know  it." 

As  she  spoke,  the  outer  castle  bell  clanged,  and  in  a 
minute  or  two  Lord  St.  Errol,  who  had  rushed  down  at 
the  first  sound,  was  face  to  face  with  Captain  Bentick. 

He  was  pale  and  palpitating  from  the  undue  hasto 
with  which  he  had  ridden  over.  But  after  a  minute  it 
was  in  quite  a  steady  voice  that  he  said  : 

"  My  orders  have  come  to  start  at  once  and  join  tho 
regiment  at  ten  o'clock  to-morrow  morning.  Let  mo 
see  Stella.  It's  a  bad  blow  for  both  of  us,  but  she'll 
bear  it  like  a  brick.'' 

Bear  it  like  a  brick  she  did  when  she  was  called  down 
from  her  brief  waking  dream  of  bliss.  I'ut  it  was  tho 
sort  of  "  bearing  it"  that  tells  not  only  on  tho  one  on 
whom  the  cliief  strain  is  laid,  but  on  those  who  behold 
it. 

It  waa  lute,  very  laic,  and  ho   had  so  much   to  do,  so 


1 68  Comrades  True. 

much  that  was  due  from  him  to  the  glorious  service  to 
which  he  belonged,  that  he  had  but  a  few  minutes  to 
give  to  this  girl  whom  it  was  breaking  his  heart-strings 
to  leave  behind  him.  However,  there  "  were  thousands 
of  other  fellows  in  his  case,  and  thousands  of  other 
women  in  hers,^'  they  reminded  each  other,  and  then 
Basil  Ben  tick  went  away  with  as  light  a  mien  as  any 
and  all  of  our  bravest  and  best  have  worn  when  ordered 
to  the  front. 

There  was  no  going  to  Southampton,  no  going  to  see 
the  inspiriting  send-off  which  she  had  pictured  seeing 
with  much  enthusiasm  when  he  was  the  mere  acquaint- 
ance of  an  hour.  The  train  Captaiii  Bentick  was  bound 
to  catch  was  an  express,  and  did  not  stop  at  the  only 
station  that  was  available  from  Castle  Errol.  So  Stella, 
without  making  any  parade  of  fortitude,  just  bore  it — 
bore  this  second  and  minor  disappointment  without 
wincing. 

Nor  did  she  put  on  an  air  of  extreme  patience  and 
resignation.  That,  she  knew,  would  have  excited  sym- 
pathy, felt  if  even  unexpressed.  Sympathy  was  about 
the  last  thing  she  could  have  stood  without  flinching  at 
this  juncture — sympathy  that  was  verbally  expressed, 
that  is. 

So  she  went  off '' to  rest,"  as  she  promised  Mrs. 
Ogilvie,  and  spent  the  night  in  wrapping  up  and  packing 
away  the  wedding-jDresents,  which  she  was  resolved  to 
keep  fresh,  untarnished,  and  untouched  by  other  peo- 
ple until  he  came  back  to  claim  them — and  her.  She 
did  not  spend  the  whole  hours  of  the  night  in  this  work, 
poor  girl  !  She  spent  many  of  them  in  prayer,  in  such 
prayer  as  Grodhad  never  put  it  into  her  tender  heart  to  ut- 
ter before  in  her  life.    Iler  prayers  were  not  only  for  him. 


The   Eve  of  The  Wedding.  169 

for  lier  lover,  but  for  the  countless  tliousautls  who  are 
sacrificing  themselves  and  all  they  hold  dear,  and  all 
they  own,  for  their  country. 

Then,  as  sleep  would  not  come,  she  read  t-ome  verses 
descriptive  of  tiie  horrors  of  war  by  a  man  who  knows 
them  well — has  endured  and  sulTered  through  tliem  : 

"  Throu-;h  coai^eless  raiu  the  rival  cannon  sounded, 

AVitli  sulky  iteration  boom  on  boom, 
And  while  assailant  and  defender  pounded 

Eacli  other  witli  those  epigrams  of  doom 
I  sat  at  table  by  my  friends  surrounded, 

And  mirth  and  music  lit  the  dingy  room  ; 
We  each  made  merry,  one  and  all.  tliough  dinner 
Had  failed  for  days,  and  we  were  growing  thinner. 

"There,  as  the  sulky,  iterated  boom 

Shook  the  thick  air,  our  songs  of  home  we  sang, 
Till  memory  brought  for  each  on  Fancy's  loom 

Unmoved,  unsliaken  by  war's  clash  and  clang. 
Some  dreamy  i)icture  woven  in  light  and  gloom 

Of  home  and  peace  I     Wliile  some  sweet  voice  that  sang — ■ 
All-valuod  hour,  t<to  little  valued  tlien — 
Last  in  this  song  or  that  would  sing  again. 

♦  »  *  *  *  » 

"I  d.-ank  each  health,  and  every  man  drank  mine, 
Chafting  grimaces  into  jovial  grin  ; 
And  ever  when  we  cea.sed  the  roar 
Of  rival  cannon  smote  the  ear  once  more. 

*'  And  e'er  the  genial  wits  renewed  their  fight 
We  lieard  the  plashing  of  the  mournful  rain, 

The  outer  voices  of  the  dismal  night 
Wept,  .sobbed,  and  clamored  at  the  window-pane 

Witli  moaningH  of  despair  and  fear  and  flight, 
Like  thos«i  which  vex  in  slee]»  a  fevered  brain, 

Until  again  the  cannon  from  their  placo 

Put  ull  these  sounds  to  silence  for  u  space. 


i7o  Comrades  True. 

"  We  pushed  the  gourd  about  and  jested  hard, 

Sang  rattling  songs,  told  many  a  rattling  tale — 

A  jest  may  keep  the  heart's  deep  flood-gates  barred^ 
Chant  gaily,  Pity,  lest  thy  blood  grow  pale, 

Bid  every  sprightly  fancy  stand  at  guard. 
Be  noisy,  Mirth,  lest  all  thy  mirth  should  fail. 

And  yet  and  yet  our  neighbor  miseries 

Would  blur  the  sparkle  in  ovir  hearts  and  eyes. 

"  For  near  at  hand  there  lay  such  countless  woes, 
Such  upheaved  sorrow  as  no  tongue  can  tell, 

Where  helpless  Pity's  ineffectual  throes 

Made  that  long  shamble  seem  a  ghastly  hell, 

And  all  the  broken ,  battered,  blood-stained  rows 
Of  dead  seemed  blessed  in  that  they  slept  so  well 

Where  the  soul  sickened  and  the  heart  grew  faint 

At  scenes  a  Dante  would  not  dare  to  paint. 

"  What  would  you  ?     Shall  we  shame  our  heart  with  tears  ? 

Mirth  grows  hysteric  ;  choose  a  milder  vein  ; 
Bring  some  unwithered  flower  of  bygone  years, 

Yet  fresh  with  fragrance  of  its  native  lane, 
Or  tell  some  tale  of  your  own  hopes  and  fears. 

And  trust  ovir  hearts  to  answer  to  the  strain. 
Or  sing  some  homely  song,  that  thought  may  roam 
On  its  sweet  wings  once  more  to  peace  and  home." 

She  knew  that  tliey  were  written  by  D.  Christie 
Murray,  a  brilliant  and  at  one  time  distinguished  war- 
correspondent  ;  and  as  this  knowledge  flashed  upon  her 
memory,  she  recalled  the  fact  that  it  was  to  seek  for 
this  work  that  Guy  Stanley  had  left  them. 

"  I  wonder  if  he  and  Basil  will  meet,  and  if  they  do, 
will  they  like  each  other  ?  "  she  thought ;  and  with  that 
thought  vividly  in  her  mind  she  went  to  sleep,  and 
dreamt  about  something  utterly  different  and  imma- 
terial, after  the  perverse  way  in  which  women  do 
dream. 


The   Eve  of  The  Wedding.  171 

While  they  were  at  breakfast  on  the  inoriiiug  of  wliat 
should  liave  been  her  wedding-day,  Stella  was  setting 
the  example  of  putting  the  best  face  on  it  all,  and 
enduring  the  pain  and  sorrow  with  a  high-held  head. 

''  By  this  time  the  Jfcditttd  has  sailed/'  she  said 
steadily,  speaking  of  the  transport  in  which  Basil's  reg- 
iment, among  others,  was  to  be  taken  to  Cape  Town. 
"It  is  forty  minutes  ^last  ten,  and  they  were  to  sail  at 
half-past.  I  niust  go  over  and  comfort  Mrs.  Bentick 
presently — that  was  the  last  thing  Basil  told  me  to 
do." 

Xeither  ^Irs.  Ogilvie  nor  St.  Errol  were  given  to 
speaking  jilatitudes ;  therefore  they  did  not  tell  her 
what  they  knew  would  be  the  fact,  that  in  doing  this 
she  would  find  her  own  best  comfort.  Instead  of  doing 
this,  they  gave  her  plenty  to  remember  in  the  way  of 
messages  about  the  village  entertainments  and  the 
schools  that  were  shortly  coming  off,  and  Stella  sup- 
ported their  endeavors  to  take  a  cheerful  view  of  things 
splendidly. 

But  now  and  again  those  realistic,  harrowing  lines 
which  she  had  read  in  the  night  would  come  into  her 
mind,  and  nearly  upset  that  mind's  balance. 

Soon  her  cobs  were  at  the  door,  her  own  dogs  were 
clustered  round  them  in  eager  expectation  of  a  run,  and 
Jock  was  seated  on  the  cushion  of  the  seat  by  the  side 
of  the  one  she  would  presently  occupy.  Mrs.  Ogilvie 
had  pleaded  that  ever  useful  letter-writing  as  an  excuse 
for  not  going  with  her,  wishing  the  girl's  heart  to  have 
it  all  its  own  free,  unfettered,  unobserved  way  in  her 
first  interview  with  llie  people  who  were  like  parents  to 
her  lover. 

She  was  taking  leave  of  them,  talking  rapidly,  and 


172  Comrades  True. 

telling  tliem  Avhat  slie  meant  to  do  in  the  village  as  she 
passed  through  it. 

"  I  shall  tell  them  myself  that  the  grown-ups  are  to 
have  their  dinner,  the  children  their  tea  and  games, 
just  the  same,  though  there  will  be  no  wedding  to-day,  " 
she  was  saying,  when  for  the  third  time  in  her  life  a 
telegram  was  brought  to  her. 

It  was  Basil  bidding  them  all  to  come  at  once.  Some- 
thing had  gone  wrong  with  the  "  Medusa's  machinery," 
and  they  would  not  be  able  to  start  till  the  following 
day  at  twelve  o'clock. 

They  were  off  within  half  an  hour,  and  traveled  with 
the  Benticks,  who  treated  Stella  as  if  she  were  a  young 
crowned  head,  and  altogether  made  so  much  of  her  that 
she  realized  fully,  2:)roudly,  and  gratefully  how  inestima- 
bly dear  the  man  she  was  pledged  to  marry  was  to  the 
people  who  regarded  him  as  their  son. 

*  *  *  :(:  *  * 

By  tlie  time  Mrs.  Clifford  reached  their  lodgings, 
although  she  had  traveled  express  in  response  to  a  tele- 
gram, she  found  that  there  was  no  immediate  cause  for 
alarm,  as  the  doctor  phrased  it,  in  her  husband's  condi- 
tion. 

"Tlie  fact  is,  my  dear  madam,  he  got  hipped.  The 
landlady  tells  me  ho  saw  something  in  an  evening  paper 
that  upset  him  to  such  an  extent  that  he  had  to  go  to 
bed  and  request  her  to  send  for  you.  He  is  certainly  in 
a  very  weak,  nervous,  prostrate  condition,  but  physi- 
cally he  is  better  than  when  I  saw  him  last.  If  you  can 
keep  his  mind  at  ease,  I  see  no  reason  for  his  not  living 
for  many  years,  more  or  less  of  an  invalid,  of  course, 
but  still  able  to  enjoy  life  in  a  quiet  way — a  quiet  way, 
you  must  remember," 


The  Eve  of  The  Wedding.  173 

"I  will  try  to  keep  liis  miiul.  and  try  to  get  him  to 
enjoy  life  in  a  quiet  way,"  she  said  calmly. 

*'  Your  niiiul  must  be  greatly  relieved  to  lind  him  so 
much  better  than  the  telegram  led  you  to  expect  ?"  he 
asked,  regarding  her  steadily. 

"It  is  infinitely  relieved.  Leaving  him  so  much 
better,  as  I  thought,  I  should  have  reproached  myself 
dreadfully  if  in  my  indulgence  of  my  professional  duties 
he  had  been  neglected  or  had  in  any  way  missed  me." 

When  Mrs.  Clilford  went  back  to  her  husband's  bed- 
room, she  found  him  with  half-closed  eyes  and  a  voice 
that  seemed  to  be  straining  to  make  itself  heard.  But 
there  was  a  spice  of  malice  in  the  half-smothered  tones, 
which  both  hurt  and  annoyed  her,  when  he  said  : 

*'  So  that  fellow  St.  Errol  was  at  the  concert  I  w^as  so 
unhappy  as  to  be  compelled  to  interrupt  ?  '' 

**  Ue  was.     But  how  did  you  know  it  ?  " 

**  A  fellow  I  know  happened  to  travel  wilh  liini  and 
his  party  from  Marple  to  Manchester,  and  heard  them 
speaking  about  you." 

**  In  other  words,  a  detective,  James  ?" 

''No,  no  !  a  fellow  I  know." 

**  And  it  was  on  account  of  the  information  this 
'fellow  '  must  have  wired  to  you  tliat  you  have  ruined 
what  would  probably  have  been  a  successful  tour  ?" 

"  I'm  sick  of  your  successful  tours  and  your  other 
forms  of  selfishness,"  he  said  crossly, 

"  The  other  day  you  wished  me  to  go  on  this  one," 
she  reminded  him  quietly. 

"The  other  day  I  did  not  know  that,  through  the 
villainy  of  others,  I  should  be  left  stranded  without  a 
penny,  and  consequently  without  a  friend  in  this  ])lace, 
which  I  hate.     Don't  put  your  hands  up  to  your  head 


i74  Comrades  True. 

in  tliat  despairing  play-actress  way.  I  hate  anything 
theatrical  in  private  life.  You  can  see  I'm  at  the  last 
ebb,  and  yet  you  don't  mind  showing  me  clearly  that 
you're  broken-hearted  at  leaving  the  place  where  you  had 
that  fellow  at  your  heels." 

"  For  your  own  sake,  I  am  sorry  you  think  so  badly 
of  me." 

*^  You  don't  mean  to  say  that,  because  I  speak  truth- 
fully— perhaps  a  little  too  truthfully — you  will  go  away 
and  leave  me  to  starve  ?  " 

"  If  I  stay  here  doing  nothing,  we  shall  probably 
starve  together,  James." 

''  Now  you're  doing  the  martyr  business.  If  there  is 
one  thing  more  repulsive  than  another  to  me,  it  is  the 
social  or  moral  martyr  spirit.  Simply  because  I  venture 
to  say  I  do  not  approve  of  your  absenting  yourself  from 
your  husband  and  your  home  in  the  way  you  do,  you 
get  upon  stilts,  declare  you  will  live  an  idle  life,  and 
that  we  must  starve  together.  It  is  inconceivably  rid- 
iculous that  a  woman  with  any  brains  at  all  should  rush 
from  one  extreme  to  another  in  this  way." 

''  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  " 

"  Ask  Miss  St.Errol,  who,  I  hear,  is  devoted  to  you, 
to  lend  you  a  few  hundreds  for  a  short  time — a  very 
short  time — to  save  you  from — well,  from  a  great  deal 
of  unpleasantness.  The  girl  has  money  of  her  own,  and 
that  fool  of  a  guardian  of  hers  would  give  her  anything 
she  asked  for." 

"  After  what  you  have  said,  I  don't  think  I  can  ever 
look  Stella  or  Lord  St.  Errol  in  the  face  again.  You 
might  have  spared  me  this — this  final  degradation." 

"  More  theatricals  ?  Where  does  the  degradation 
come  in  when  I  ask  yon  to  accept  a  little  temporary  aid 


The   Eve  of  The  Wedding, 


/:> 


from  a  young  womiin  whom  you  profess  to  regard  as  a 
sister  ?     But  I  say  no  more — I  say  no  more  I  " 

After  that  he  said  a  great  deal  more,  and  had  tlie 
satisfaction  of  seeing  that  liis  wife  was  no  liappior  than 
himself. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


AT   THE   HULK. 


The  quaintness  of  The  Hulk  was  only  exceeded  by 
the  extraordinary  personality  of  its  chief  inhabitant. 
Originally  The  Hulk  had  been  merely  two  ordinary 
uncomfortable  laborers'  cottages.  These  had  been 
cleverly  Joined  together  and  expanded  into  a  comfort- 
able, unique  little  house.  Originally  the  master  of  it 
had  been  a  smart  officer  in  the  R.N.,  a  fearless,  daunt- 
less, ne'er-do-well,  a  strict  disciplinarian,  reckless  on 
land,  rigorous  at  sea,  feared  and  loved  by  his  men,  and 
dreaded  by  his  family. 

The  Hulk  stood  on  rather  a  low  piece  of  land  at  the 
sharp  end  of  a  triangular  piece  of  ground  known  as 
No-man's  Land,  about  five  miles  from  Castle  Errol. 
The  other  part  of  the  triangle  was  devoted  to  fruit- 
trees  and  flower-beds,  not  mixed  up  in  a  heterogeneous 
way,  but  trimly  ordered  and  sharply  cut,  less  with  an 
eye  to  beauty  than  neatness  and  productiveness.  The 
old  naval  officer  had  nothing  but  his  pension  and  his 
garden-stuff  to  live  upon,  so  he  devoted  all  his  time 
and  energy  to  the  cultivation  of  the  latter,  with  such 
good  results  that  his  fruit  and  vegetables  always  com- 
manded the  best  price  in  the  market  to  which  he  sent 
176 


At  Tlic  Hulk.  177 

them  in  a  donkey-cart  driven  by  a  stalwart  boy  tliree 
times  a  week. 

Mr.  Ledger's  aspect  when  engaged  in  digging,  sowing 
seeds,  or  pruning  trees  M'as  not  ]>repossessing.  A  ninch- 
worn  old  veleteen  coat  covered  his  tall,  si)are  frame, 
and  a  battered  old  liat  sat  upon  his  head.  II is  legs 
were  encased  in  leather  breeches,  and  his  general  a})- 
pearance  was  a  cross  between  a  poverty-stricken  game- 
keeper and  a  tramp. 

But  when  his  day's  work  was  over,  all  this  was 
changed.  lie  would  then  go  into  his  quaint  little 
house,  take  a  bath,  and  dress  himself  in  evening  clothes 
as  fastidiously  and  carefully  as  if  lie  were  going  to  a 
dinner-party  to  meet  the  highest  in  the  land.  Summer 
and  wiutor.  ho  invariably  dined  at  eight  o'clock,  and, 
however  frugal  the  repast  might  be,  he  always  insisted 
upon  his  table  being  well  ordered  and  his  viands 
daintily  served. 

A  grim,  lionest,  taciturn,  middle-aged  woman  was 
his  sole  domestic.  The  intercourse  he  held  with  lier 
was  severely  limited.  When  she  brought  in  his  break- 
fjist  he  wished  her  good  morning,  and  when  she  brought 
in  the  silver  the  last  thing  before  going  to  bed  he 
wished  her  good  night.  She  knew  her  duties  thoroughly, 
and  performed  them  with  machine-like  exactitude  ; 
therefore  he  had  never  any  occasion  to  give  her  orders 
and  directions.  She  had  a  half-day's  holiday  once  a 
week,  and  in  her  absence  the  garden-boy  carried  in  and 
cleared  away  the  dinner.  It  was  a  monotonous,  solitary 
life,  but  both  the  master  and  the  servant  liked  monotony 
and  solitude,  and  in  their  respective  ways  they  were 
very  happy  and  contented. 

Mr.  Ledger's  one  amusement  was  reading.     He  took 

12 


178  Comrades  True. 

the  Times  and  a  service  paper,  and  on  the  rare  occasions 
when  he  went  into  the  market-town  he  would  buy  two 
or  three  books.  These  made  his  evenings  pass  quickly 
and  pleasantly,  and  made  him  feel  that  he  would  not 
willingly  change  places  with  any  man. 

This  order  of  things  had  existed  about  ten  years,  and 
seemed  likely  to  go  on  uninterruptedly  for  ten  years 
longer,  when  accident  brought  about  a  change.  In 
getting  over  a  stile  hurriedly  in  his  haste  to  catch  a 
train,  he  slipped  and  fell  with  one  leg  twisted  under 
him  at  a  cruel  angle.  Lord  St.  Errol's  carriage  with 
Mrs.  Ogilvie  and  Stella  in  it  was  passing  at  the  time. 
The  carriage  was  stopped  at  once,  and  the  ladies  got 
out  to  offer  help.  Unassisted  they  could  do  nothing, 
for  he  had  sustained  a  compound  fracture  of  the  leg 
just  below  tlie  knee.  They  remained  with  him,  en- 
deavoring to  soothe  him  as  best  they  could,  while  the 
carriage  was  sent  on  for  medical  aid  and  an  ambulance. 

The  old  sailor  had  the  courage  of  his  kind.  He  bore 
the  agony  without  flinching  or  murmuring,  and  apolo- 
gized profusely  to  them  for  presuming  to  light  his  pipe. 
When  he  had  smoked  in  silence  for  a  few  minutes,  in- 
tently regarding  Stella  the  while,  he  suddenly  asked  : 

'^  May  I  venture  to  ask  the  names  of  you  two  ladies 
who  are  so  kind  to  a  poor  old  hulk  like  myself  ?  " 

They  told  him  their  names,  and  after  looking  scru- 
tinizingly  at  Stella  for  a  few  minutes  he  turned  his  head 
away  from  them,  and  seemed  steeped  in  thought.  Had 
his  head  not  been  turned  away,  they  would  have  seen 
that  there  were  tears  in  his  eyes. 

The  doctors  and  attendants  from  the  hospital  came 
on  the  scene  almost  immediately  after  this,  and  with 
many  and  courteous  thanks  he  parted  with  Mrs,  Ogilvie 


At  The   Hulk.  179 

and  Stella.  When  he  was  saying  good-by  to  the  latter, 
his  eyes  fell  on  the  locket  tlmt  Stellu  wore,  and  his  face 
grew  paler  even  than  the  pain  had  made  it.  A  ques- 
tion hovered  on  his  lips,  but  he  overc<unc  the  impulse 
to  ask  it.  Had  he  asked  the  question,  and  been  shown 
what  the  locket  contained,  he  would  have  seen  the 
miniature  of  a  handsome  young  naval  ollicer  in  the 
uniform  of  thirty  years  ago. 

After  this,  a  great  change  came  over  Mr.  Ledger's 
life  and  habits.  The  broken  leg  laid  him  up  for  many 
a  long  day,  and  it  soon  became  an  understood  thing 
that  Stella  should  go  and  sec  him  two  or  three  times 
a  week.  He  also  admitted  Lord  St.  Errol  frequently, 
and  took  a  great  interest  in  the  story  of  the  way  in 
which  Stella  had  become  the  young  peer's  ward. 

'*  And  you  know  nothing  more  about  her  than  this  : 
that  your  predecessor  took  her  to  his  home  when  she 
was  a  baby,  and  left  her  to  your  charge  as  his  adopted 
child  y  "  " 

St.   Errol  nodded  assent. 

**  Tiiat's  it.  That's  all  I  know  about  the  business. 
I'd  give  a  good  deal  to  find  out  something  about  her 
parentage,  dear  girl  I  for  she  worries  about  her  obscure 
origin  a  good  deal.  The  fellow  she's  engaged  to — fine 
young  fellow  he  is,  too — is  quite  indilTerent  about  it. 
But  Stella  thinks  that  she  is  acting  dishonorably  in 
entering  a  family  like  the  Bcnticks  without  being  able 
to  explain  herself." 

"Poor  girl  !"  3Ir.  Ledger  said  sympathetically. 
Then,  after  a  few  moments,  which  he  had  occupied  in 
moving  as  well  as  his  l)r(»ken  leg  would  allow  him  into 
a  position  that  ])ut  his  face  out  of  reach  of  St.  Errol's 
observation,  he  went  on  :  "lam  very  miieli  interesteil 


i8o  Comrades  True. 

in  what  you  told  me  the  other  day  about  that  portrait. 
Depend  npon  it^,  the  key  to  the  romance  lies  there." 

''I  am  afraid  I  shall  never  find  the  key." 

"  Perhaps,  when  I'm  on  my  pins  again,  I  may  aid 
you  in  the  search.  I'm  an  old  salt,  and  sailors  learn  to 
be  very  observant,  you  know." 

"  Thanks  ;  but  it's  a  mystery  of  many  years'  stand- 
ing, and  I  don't  think,  myself,  it  will  ever  be  unraveled 
now." 

''I  feel  for  the  poor  girl  very  much — very  much  in- 
deed," Mr.  Ledger  said  emphatically.  Then  he  was 
silent  and  thoughtful  for  some  time,  during  which  St. 
Errol  amused  himself  by  looking  at  a  collection  of  queer 
weapons  which  had  been  collected  from  nearly  every 
armed  land  under  the  sun.  "  Yes  ;  I  have  been  a  great 
traveler,  and  have  fought  in  many  a  land,"  the  old 
man  said  in  answer  to  St.  Errol's  unspoken  thought. 

''What  was  your  last  appointment?"  St.  Errol 
asked. 

*'  Do  you  mean  in  the  English  Navy  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  what  other  should  I  mean  ?  " 

Mr.  Ledger's  face  grew  hard  in  a  moment. 

"  I  was  dismissed  the  English  Navy  twenty  years  ago 
for  a  breach  of  discipline  tliat  I  was  compelled  to  com- 
mit. A  junior  officer  insulted  and  struck  me.  I  re- 
turned the  blow,  and  the  result  was  that  he  received 
promotion  and  I  was  dismissed  the  service.  He  was 
my  junior,  you  see,  and  I  had  the  reputation  (pretty 
well  deserved)  of  being  a  hot-tempered  fellow." 

He  turned  his  eyes  fully  and  steadily  on  St.  Errol, 
and  the  latter  almost  started  under  the  glance  ;  it  re- 
minded him  so  forcibly  of  some  one  else,  but  who  the 
^'  some  one  "  was  he  could  not  determine. 


At  The  Hulk.  i8i 

*'  I  am  sorry  that  I  should  inaJverteutly  have  broached 
the  subject,"  St.  Errol  said  apologetically. 

''  The  subject  has  long  ceased  to  be  a  painful  one — 
that  is,  the  subject  of  my  having  been  booted  from  the 
service.  But  there  are  circumstances  connected  with 
that  period  which  were  exquisitely  painful  to  me  at  the 
time,  and  whicli  prick  and  sting  now  whenever  I  recall 
them.  Ten  years  of  reckless  activity  did  not  blunt  my 
memory  of  them.  These  ten  years  of  solitude  that  I 
have  passed  here,  '  the  world  forgetting,  by  the  world 
forgot,'  have  failed  to  blunt  the  remembrance  of 
them.  Hand  me  that  pipe  and  tobacco-jar,  my  good 
fellow." 

St.  Errol  did  as  he  was  requested,  and  then  went  to 
the  wiiulow  and  looked  out  on  the  fruit  and  vegetable 
garden. 

*•  I  have  often  seen  you  at  work  down  there  when 
I've  been  riding  past,"  he  said,  "and  I've  always  had 
a  great  desire  to  know  you.  I  only  wish  our  frieiul- 
ship  luid  been  brought  about  under  pleasanter  circum- 
stances for  you." 

'*  Oh,  that's  all  the  fortune  of  war.  I  am  only  glad 
tliat  any  circumstances  should  have  made  me  acquainted 
with  yon — and  your  ward.  "Will  you  ask  Miss  St.  Errol 
to  come  and  see  me  soon  ? ''  he  added,  as  St.  Errol  held 
out  his  hand  to  say  good-by. 

"She'll  come  gladly." 

"  She's  a  sweet  girl.  I  have  only  known  one  other 
as  sweet  in  the  course  of  my  life.  1  have  one  or  two 
old-world  curiosities — miniatures,  and  bits  of  jewelry 
— that  I  should  like  to  sliow  her." 

Again,  as  lie  spoke,  his  eyes  and  expression  reminded 
St.  Errol  of  some  one  else  wlioin  he  had  kimwii.      I'ut 


i82  Comrades  True. 

the  reminder  was  vague  and  misty,  and  he  could  not 
localize  it. 

After  this  there  was  rarely  a  day  on  which  either 
Stella  or  St.  Errol  did  not  go  to  The  Hulk,  to  try  and 
lighten  the  irksomeness  of  the  "cramped,  cabined,  and 
confined "  life  Mr.  Ledger  was  perforce  leading.  St. 
Errol  smoked  and  yarned  with  him,  and  Stella  read 
the  war  and  other  news  to  him  while  he  intently 
watched  every  variation  in  her  mobile  little  face.  But 
he  said  no  more  about  showing  her  his  old  miniatures 
and  other  curiosities. 

Captain  Bentick's  first  letter  from  Natal  was  written 
in  exuberant  spirits,  and  Stella  responded  with  all  her 
soul  and  vitality  to  the  call  upon  her  sympathies.  One 
passage  in  his  letter  was  such  public  family  property 
that  she  read  it  out  to  them. 

"  Among  other  fellows  outside  the  regiment  whom  I 
knew  more  or  less  on  the  Medusa  was  Mr.  Stanley,  who 
was  with  you  at  Chatsworth  that  day.  He's  a  ripping 
good  fellow,  and  ought  to  have  been  a  soldier.  He  has 
got  the  billet  of  the  poor  chap  who  was  killed  the 
other  day  on  one  of  the  London  dailies,  and  has  gone 
on."  At  this  point  the  writer  went  on  to  deal  with 
other  matters,  and  could  not  finish  his  letter  till  two 
days  later.  In  this  postscript  he  told  them  that  news 
had  just  come  of  Stanley  having  been  severely  wounded. 
"  But  he  has  been  sent  to  one  of  the  hospitals,  and  is 
being  well  looked  after,"  he  concluded. 


Soon  after  this  it  became  necessary  that  Mrs.  Ogilvie 
should  go  up  to  town  to  look  after  her  own  household 
and  belongings.     At  first  it  was  proposed  that  Stella 


At  The  Hulk.  183 

should  go  to  the  Benticks,  ami  pass  with  them  the 
time  of  her  chaperone's^absonce.  But  the  girl's  grati- 
tude and  loyalty  interposed  and  nullilied  tiiis  pro- 
posal. 

*'  Mrs.  Ogilvie  has  sacrificed  the  routine  life  that 
was  second  nature  to  her  for  my  sake,  and  now  I  must 
go  and  look  after  lier.  She  will  have  a  great  deal  to 
do  that  I  can  do  for  her,  and  spare  her  a  lot  of  trouble 
and  exertion.  She  is  rheumatic,  and  ought  not  to  go 
out  in  fogs  and  damp  or  in  snow  and  frost.  I  am 
strong,  and  none  of  these  things  will  hurt  me.'' 

"  You  won't  take  advantage  of  your  liberty  to  make 
a  bolt  for  the  stage,  will  you  ?''  St.  Errol  asked  laugh- 
ingly. 

"Xo  ;  but  I  shall  take  advantage  of  my  liberty  to  try 
and  get  some  paying  London  engagements  for  Mrs. 
Clifford.  She  tells  me  her  husband  is  very  much  better, 
only  hipped,  lie  wants  her  to  work,  and  doesn't  like 
her  to  leave  him  ;  in  fact,  he«wants  her  to  make  bricks 
without  straw." 

"  What  a  narrow-minded  beggar  he  must  be  I "  St. 
P>rol  said  savagely. 

*'  "What  made  her  marry  him,  I  wonder  ?"  Stella  con- 
jectured. 

"  Don't  set  yourself  that  problem  to  solve,  Stella. 
It's  the  most  unsatisfying  one,  even  when  solved  in  such 
a  case  as  the  Cliffords." 

"  But  you'll  worry  every  one  you  know  to  give  her 
engagements,  and  get  their  friends  to  do  ti)e  same, 
won't  you,  Mrs.  Ogilvie  ?  The  Bentickshave  given  me 
some  introductions  that  may  be  useful." 

"  Tiicre  won't  be  much  going  on  for  some  time.  I  fear. 
The  interests  of  too  numy   thousands  are    involved  in 


184  Comrades  True. 

this  business  in  South  Africa/'  St.  Errol  put  in.  "Poor 
old  Stanley  !  "  he  went  on,  "I  Avish  he  hadn't  gone  oif 
without  beat  of  drum.  I'd  like  to  have  seen  him  off 
and  said  good-by  to  him. " 

"Perhaps — who  knows? — as  he  went  out  in  the 
Medusa,  he  might  have  been  quite  close  to  us  when  we 
were  saying  good-by  to  Basil,"  Stella  said  musingly. 
"  Now  I  must  go  and  tell  the  Benticks  about  ?wy  letter, 
and  call  in  to  see  Mr,  Ledger,  and  say  good-by  for  a 
wee  bit." 

"  He'll  miss  yon  awfully,"  St.  Errol  said. 

"And  I  shall  miss  him.  It  seems  so  odd,  but  I've 
got  to  quite  love  him.  Do  you  know  that  he  must 
have  lost  a  daughter,  and  that  I  must  be  something  like 
her.  Has  he  ever  told  you,  St.  Errol  ?  Has  he  ever 
had  a  wife  and  daughter  ?  " 

"  No.  lie  often  seems  on  the  verge  of  making  a  con- 
fidence, but  he  dries  up  suddenly  and  speaks  about  his 
garden  or  his  goat,  or  something  far  away  from  what 
he's  had  in  his  mind  a  minute  before." 

"  He's  fretting  about  that  garden,  I  know  he  is," 
Stella  said  earnestly.  "  He  said  yesterday  that  he  knew 
that  boy  wouldn't  have  the  ground  ready  for  the  spring 
vegetables.  I  thought  very  likely  not,  for  the  boy  is 
nearly  always  out  on  a  trolley." 

"  He  won't  let  me  send  a  gardener  over  to  see  to 
things.     He's  awfully  independent." 

"  And  altogether  interesting,"  Stella  said  warmly. 

Her  new  "  old  friend  "  bore  the  news  of  her  approach- 
ing departure  bravely. 

"  Is  St.  Errol  going  too  ?  "  he  asked,  as  his  heart 
sank  within  him  at  the  prospect  of  the  dullness  and  des- 
olation which  would   be  his  portion  during  the  absence 


At  The   Hulk.  185 

of  the  two  bright  young  elemeuts  who  had  recently  been 
introduced  into  his  life. 

''Only  for  a  fortnight." 

"  And  you — for  liow  long  ?  " 

"A  month,  or  perhaps  six  weeks.'* 

Mr.  Ledger  sighed. 

"The  time  will  seem  long  to  me.  It's  many  a  long 
day  since  a  bright  young  face  has  blessed  mo  with  it.s 
smiles." 

*'  Mr.  Ledger "  Stella  began  ;  then  she  stopped  in 

confusion. 

'•'  You  were  going  to  ask  mo  something,"  ho  said 
gently.     *'  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  was  wondering  if  you  had  a  daughter  ?" 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  murmured. 

*'  Have  you  ever  had  a  daughter  ?  "  Stella  persisted. 

"  I  don't  know,"  lie  replied,  this  time  in  such  evident 
mental  pain  that  Stella's  self-reproach  for  having  in- 
dulged in  such  curiosity  brought  the  tears  to  her  eyes. 

"  Don't  cry,  don't  cry  ;  I  could  never  stand  the  sight 
of  tears  in  a  woman's  eyes.  Some  day,  when  you  como 
back,  I'll  tell  you  a  story — the  beginning  of  one,  at 
least.     Perhaps  you  may  help  me  to  find  the  end  of  it." 

''  A  story — a  real  true  one  ?  That  will  be  delicious." 

'*  It  may  be — the  end  may  be.  Wlio  knows?"  he 
said  abstractedly.  Then,  witli  an  abi-iipt  change  of 
manner,  ho  went  on  :  "  Look  out  into  the  garden,  my 
dear,  and  tell  me  if  that  torment  of  a  boy  is  doing  any- 
thing to  the  ground." 

"  No,  he's  not.  When  I  came  here,  1  met  him  riding 
down  the  hill  on  liis  trolley.  Why  won't  you  let  one  of 
our  iiK-n  come  over  and  sec  to  the  garden  ?" 


1 86  Comrades  True. 

"  Do  you  wish  me  to  do  that  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  she  said  coaxingly.  "  St.  Errol 
and  all  of  us  wish  it." 

"  Then  tell  St.  Errol  to  send  his  man — a  man  who 
will  stand  no  nonsense  from  that  young  rascal,  who'll 
find  I  haven't  forgotten  how  to  use  a  rope's-end  when  I 
get  about  on  my  pins  again," 

The  warlike  mood,  though  it  was  only  aroused  by  a 
naughty  little  idle  boy,  strung  him  up,  and  when  Stella 
took  leave  of  him  he  was  in  a  comparatively  cheerful 
frame  of  mind. 

As  soon  as  she  was  gone,  he  rang  for  the  nurse,  and 
when  she  came  he  sent  for  his  housekeeper,  and  de- 
livered himself  of  the  longest  sj)eecli  he  had  ever  ad- 
dressed to  her. 

"  Take  this  key,  go  to  the  dining-room,  and  unlock 
the  left-hand  top  drawer  of  my  Avriting-table.  There 
you  will  find  a  crimson  morocco  case  ;  bring  it  up  to 
me.  Lock  the  drawer,  and  don't  move  one  of  the 
papers  under  the  case  by  a  hair's  breadth,  or  I  shall 
know  it  when  I  go  down  again." 

She  smiled  grimly,  said  "  Yes,  sir,"  and  was  back  in 
a  few  minutes  with  the  crimson  morocco  case. 

"  Both  of  you  go  till  I  ring  for  you,"  he  commanded  ; 
and  they  obeyed  him  gladly. 

"He's  a  real  old  hunk,"  the  nurse  said,  as  they  seated 
themselves  to  tea. 

The  housekeeper  nodded. 

*'  Ain't  bad  to  live  with,  though,  I  should  think  ?  " 

The  housekeeper  nodded  again. 

"  He  seems  to  have  taken  to  the  young  lady  from  the 
castle.     Do  you  know  why  ?  " 

*'  No,  I  don't !  "  the  housekeeper  said  with  laconic 


At  The  Hulk.  187 

ferocity  ;  ''  and  what's  iiioro,  if  I  did  know,  I  sliouldn't 
tell  you  I     You're  a  gossip,  that's  what  you  are  I  '' 

The  nurse  was  a  buxom,  middle-aged  woman,  of  a 
genial  turn  of  mind,  and  it  hurt  her  a  good  deal  to  be 
repulsed  in  this  crude  way. 

"  I  meant  no  harm,"  she  said  amiably.  "  I  was  only 
going  to  say  that  the  other  day  he  chanced  to  fall 
asleep  while  he  was  looking  at  a  little  picture  in  a  gold 
frame.     I  saw  it,  too." 

*'  Who  was  it  ?"  said  the  housekeeper  sourly. 

"  Oh.  I  won't  gossip,"  said  the  nurse  suavely  ;  "  I'll 
just  read  the  paper  till  I'm  wanted." 


OHAPTEE  XX. 

STELLA  WANTS  TO  KNOW. 

Stanley  was  disappointed  and  disgusted.  The  nnrse 
who  was  told  off  to  attend  to  him  was  young,  pretty, 
and  frivolous.  From  the  moment  she  approached  him 
he  felt  repellent  towards  her,  and  when  she  began  flirt- 
ing at  him  in  a  semi-professional  way  repugnance  be- 
came detestation. 

She  had  sweet  blue  eyes  and  hazel-nut-colored  hair, 
and  she  blinked  the  eyes  and  crimped  the  hair  at  him 
so  obviously  for  two  days  that  his  patience  gave  out. 
The  result  was  that  she  went  to  attend  a  younger  man, 
and  a  woman  of  forty  took  Stanley  in  hand. 

She  was  an  unmarried  woman,  good  as  gold,  and  full 
of  motherly  instincts — fair  and  fleshy,  very  tidy,  a  born 
enemy  to  dust  and  dirt  of  every  description.  Dull 
partly  because  she  had  never  been  given  the  oppor- 
tunity of  being  anything  else,  and  partly  because,  if 
she  had  been  given  the  opportunity,  she  would  have 
been  unable  to  take  it. 

But  she  had  the  atmosphere  of  comfortableness  about 
her.  She  never  spilt  beef-tea  into  a  saucer,  nor  let  a 
fire  go  low.  In  fact  she  was  a  person  born  to  minister 
to  man's  creature  comforts,  and  being  merely  a  man 
Stanley  appreciated  her. 


Stella  Wants  to   Know.  189 

Nurse  Walsh  she  was  called,  and  she  had  a  000  in 
her  voice.  Clever,  certainly,  as  I'ar  as  everything  con- 
uected  with  her  trade  went,  but  common.  Lacking 
(happily  for  lierself)  the  fine  instincts  of  the  gentle- 
woman, but  able  to  prate  about  herself  as  if  she  were 
really  one. 

She  played  her  patient  rather  neatly,  considering 
what  he  was  and  she  was.  She  massaged  him,  ])oor 
fellow  !  and  while  he  was  under  the  influence  of  this 
direful  treatment  she  told  him  what  he  ought  to  do 
when  he  got  well. 

"  You  want  a  wife,  that's  what  it  is,  when  you  get 
well,  sir.  Why,  your  socks  are  all  in  holes,  and  I'm 
sure  the  way  your  vests  and  drawers  have  been  treated 
in  tlie  wash  is  too  shameful " 

He  turned  his  head  aside,  he  was  so  weary  of  pity. 
It  did  not  come  to  him  under  the  guise  of  loveliness. 
She  was  stout  and  unattractive.  He  turned  his  face  to 
the  wall,  and  tried  to  sleep.  Instead  of  sleeping,  ho 
grew  feverish,  and  thought  of  Stella. 

Xurse  Walsh  was  very  patient — patient  and  tender 
and  untiring  in  her  service  ;  and  he  was  grateful,  and 
when  a  man  is  grateful  he  is  apt  to  do  himself  a  wrong 
rather  than  not  be  generous. 

The  outcome  of  his  gratitude  was  her  love.  The 
passion  came  to  her  late  in  life,  but  it  was  a  genuine 
thing.  The  fine,  handsome  fellow,  who  was  at  least 
fifteen  years  her  junior,  had  become  so  precious  to  her 
during  the  days  when  his  life  hung  upon  a  thread,  and 
he  liad  been  entirely  dependent  on  her,  that  she  would 
freely  have  given  up  her  own  life  to  serve  him.  Ho 
was  nidike  any  one  she  had  ever  met,  for  though  she 
was  a  woman  of  wealth,   she  had   never   enjoyed    the 


iQo  Comrades  True. 

social  advantages  that  wealth  frequently  gives.  The 
daughter  of  a  money-lender  who  had  lived  like  a  miser, 
she  had  held  herself  aloof  from  her  own  class,  and  never 
succeeded  in  getting  into  a  better  one.  When  her 
father  died,  and  she  found  herself  an  heiress,  her  lone- 
liness became  unbearable,  her  idleness  a  sin.  So  she 
trained  as  a  hospital  nurse,  and  did  good,  honest, 
wholesome  work  in  a  contented,  peaceful  frame  of 
mind,  until  Stanley  in  an  evil  hour  for  them  both  was 
consigned  to  her  care. 

Her  devotion  and  sympathy  were  so  lavishly  given 
that,  as  the  days  wore  on,  and  the  fever  passed,  leaving 
him  a  convalescent,  he  could  not  refrain  from  giving 
her  crumbs  of  comfort  in  the  shape  of  warm,  grateful 
words.  He  was  not  happy  himself,  but  it  soothed  him 
to  see  that  he  could  make  her  supremely  happy  by  a 
phrase  that  cost  him  no  effort  to  utter  ;  and  Stella  being 
lost  to  him,  why  should  he  deprive  this  humbly  ador- 
ing woman  of  what  would  make  the  world  a  paradise 
to  her  ? 

Unhappiness  is  the  occasional  portion  of  every  one  of 
us.  But  that  it  is  so  is  poor  consolation  to  any  indi- 
vidual when  being  attacked  by  his  or  her  special  form 
of  suffering.  Your  unhapjoiness  may  result  from  causes 
which  seem  insignificant  indeed  when  compared  with 
those  which  cast  a  cloud  over  your  neighbor's  brow. 
Still,  the  defeat  of  your  pet  project  does  not  make  it  a 
smaller  thing  to  you.  You  are  not  one  whit  the  less 
miserable  about  it  because  some  other  man  or  woman 
has  heavier  cares  heaped  on  his  or  her  head.  We  each 
one  of  us  object  definitely  and  strongly  to  bearing  our 
portion  of  man's  lot  here  below — 'Habor  and  sorrow. '^ 
And  the  universal  mind  must  be  considerably  better 


Stella  Wants  to  Know.  191 

regulated  than  it  is  at  present  before  we  shall  derive 
satisfaetion  or  consolation  from  the  rellection  that  other 
people  are  bearing  heavier  burdens, 

Stanley  was  very  unhappy  on  account  of  the  loss  of 
Stella  St.  Errol.  It  was  being  borne  in  upon  his  mind 
now,  as  he  was  lying  there  in  a  state  of  forced  inactivity, 
that  he  had  only  himself  to  tliank  for  this  mental 
misery.  He  had  feared  liis  fate  too  much,  and  while 
he  was  hesitating,  a  bolder,  prompter  man  stepped  iu 
and  won  what  he — Stanley — had  not  made  an  effort  to 
secure.  So  now  he  was  very  unhappy,  and  though  he 
did  not  go  so  far  as  to  consider  his  life  blighted,  he  did 
regard  himself  a  very  much  broken  man,  one  who  would 
most  likely  just  drift  on  and  do  little  good  cither  for 
others  or  himself  with  that  life. 

It  was  while  he  was  in  this  vein  that  his  nurse's 
ministrations  struck  a  sympathetic  chord  in  him.  She 
was  very  thoughtful,  gentle,  and  soothing.  Xo  mother 
could  have  anticipated  his  every  wish  and  want  with 
more  affectionate  consideration.  It  is  true  that  she 
was  neither  young  nor  pretty,  but  youth  and  beauty 
had  failed  him  signally,  and  this  woman  was  evidently 
prepared  to  give  everything,  and  apparently  not  expect 
anything  in  return.  He  dwelt  upon  this  idea  so  long 
and  persistently  that  it  became  a  familiar  and  almost 
pleasant  one  to  him.  lie  acted  upon  it  one  day  when 
he  awoke,  and  found  her  crying  bitterly  by  his  side. 

She  was  so  obviously  embarrassed  by  his  making  the 
discovery  of  her  emotion  that  lie  was  more  than  ever 
touched  by  lier  unselfishness.  lie  in  turn  became  the 
comforter,  and  fulfilled  his  oflice  so  jierfcctly  that  before 
that  interview  was  over  eiie  was  shedding  tears  of 
iiappinese. 


192  Comrades  True. 

"  I  have  outlived  romance — we  have  both  done  that, 
I  think — but  without  it  we  may  be  a  fairly  happy  and 
comfortable  couple,"  he  said  ;  and  though  there  was  no 
ardor  in  the  speech,  she  was  quite  satisfied  with  it. 

Thus  the  matter  was  settled,  and  as  soon  as  Stanley 
was  Avell  enough  they  Avere  married  by  one  of  the 
chaplains  to  the  forces. 

Of  course,  she  gave  up  the  nursing  which  had  been 
her  great  object  in  life  before  she  met  her  young  hus- 
baaid.  Her  means  were  ample,  and  she  had  a  natural 
and  womanly  desire  to  go  back  to  England  and  exhibit 
her  young  husband  to  her  friends.  However,  this 
Stanley  would  not  do.  He  meant  to  i^emain  till  the 
war  was  over,  or,  at  any  rate,  while  his  health  held  out. 
This  was  the  first  crux,  and  he  very  soon  forgot  it,  but 
she  did  not. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

Meantime,  Mrs.  Ogilvie  had  taken  Stella  away  with 
her,  first  to  town  for  a  week  or  two,  and  then  to  the 
cottage.  During  the  week  or  two  in  town,  Stella  and 
Mrs.  Clifford  were  together  whenever  the  latter  could 
get  away  from  her  ailing,  irritable  husband. 

Mr.  Clifford  had  met  his  young  millionaire  friend 
again,  and  the  latter  had  agreed  willingly  to  advance  a 
few  hundreds  more  in  the  good  cause  of  setting  Mr. 
Clifford  ''  firmly  on  his  legs  again,"  as  the  latter  ex- 
pressed it.  This  being  arranged,  the  club  saw  more  of 
him  and  his  wife  less  than  would  have  been  the  case 
had  the  millionaire  friend  been  less  generous. 

One  evening  Mrs.  Clifford  was  in  Stella's  room  when 
the  latter  was  dressing  for  a  ball,  and  her  attention  was 
attracted  by  the  locket  which  Stella  wore. 

"  I  have  one  just  like  it ;  I  must  show  what's  in  mine," 


Stella  Wants  to   Know.  193 

she  said  ;  and  she  opened  the  locket  and  disclosed  the 
portrait  of  a  young  and  lovely  woman.  *'  That  was  my 
dear  mother,"  she  said.  ''  She  died  when  1  was  nine 
years  old,  and  I  was  away  in  France  at  school,  and  liad 
not  seen  lier  for  three  years.  Why,  Stella,  you  are  like 
her  I  much  more  like  her  than  I,  her  own  daughter, 
am.     Isn't  it  funny  !  " 

"  Very,"  Stella  said  thoughtfully.  '^  She  died  when 
I  was  quite  a  little  baby,  and  I  never  saw  her  at  all. 
Lord  St.  Errol  taught  me  to  call  him  papa,  but  I  was 
not  liis  child.  He  gave  me  this  locket  and  the  minia- 
ture in  it  when  1  was  about  ten,  and  told  me  it  was  a 
likeness  of  a  relation  of  mine,  and  that  I  might  keep  it 
if  I  liked,  but  he  would  never  tell  mc  what  relation. 
But  I  think  it  must  be  my  father." 

The  likeness  Stella  wore,  as  has  already  been  told, 
was  of  a  young  naval  man.  Mrs.  Clifford  looked  at  it 
with  interest  and  per])le.\ity. 

"  I  seem  to  have  a  shadowy  recollection  of  some  one 
like  it,  but  I  suppose  I  am  mistaken,"  she  said  ;  and 
then  the  subject  dropped,  and  Stella  went  away  to  her 
ball,  where  she  quickly  forgot  all  about  it  ;  but  Mrs. 
Clifford  pondered  over  it,  and  a  thousand  conjectures 
fashioned  themselves  in  her  brain. 

Soon  after  they  went  down  to  the  cottage,  where 
they  found  the  pony  as  fat  and  Jem  as  well  inclined  to 
have  his  own  way  as  ever,  and  while  they  were  there 
they  heard  of  Stanley's  marriage. 

The  news  did  not  affect  Stella  as  much  as  it  would 
have  done  had  she  not  been  in  a  state  of  dire  appre- 
hension concerning  the  safi'ty  of  the  man  she  loved. 
Still,  it  did  affect  her  more  than  a  little.  She  knew 
tliat  he  hiul  loved  her  vciv  much,  tiiougli  he  had  never 
'3 


194  Comrades  True. 

told  her  so,  and  it  is  a  blow  to  feminine  vanity,  if  not 
to  any  softer  feeling,  when  a  man  goes  off  and  seeks 
solace  in  another  woman's  love.  She  heard  nothing  of 
Mrs.  Stanley's  personality,  and  concluded  that  he  had 
been  caught  in  the  rebound  by  some  young  and  pretty 
woman  who  had  won  her  way  to  his  heart  through  his 
wounds. 

''I  feel  sure  she  is  a  designing  thing,"  she  said  to 
Mrs.  Ogilvie  ;  and  Mrs.  Ogilvie  ventured  to  say  that 
hospital  nurses  were  not  more  designing  than  any  other 
class  of  women.  "  Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that  !  You 
see,  they  have  so  many  opportunities  of  inveigling  a 
man  when  he's  weak  and  wants  a  lot  of  care.  I  don't 
say  that  Mrs.  Stanley  is  one  of  this  class ;  indeed,  I 
hope  she  is  not.  But  I  do  say  that  she  must  have  gone 
more  than  half  way  to  meet  him,  for  him  to  have  mar- 
ried her  so  soon,  so  very  soon." 

''So  soon  after  what,  dear  ?" 

''  After  leaving — all  of  us.  He  hasn't  even  written 
to  St.  Errol  to  tell  him  what  he  has  done." 

"Young  men  will  do  things  impulsively." 

"  You're  thinking  of  Basil  ?  But  that  was  quite 
different.  He  had  not  been  seeming  to  be  in  love  with 
any  one  else  just  before  he  met  me." 

"  And  Mr.  Stanley  certainly  had — I  admit  that." 

Stella  flushed. 

''I  ought  not  to  have  said  that  ;  it  Avas horribly  mean 
and  dog-in-the-mangerish  of  me.  Ill  never  say  such  a 
thing  again,  and  when  he  brings  his  wife  back  I  hope 
we  shall  all  be  great  friends.  I  have  no  doubt  she's  a 
charming  woman  ;  he  is  so  nice  in  every  way  that  he 
deserves  a  sweet  wife.  I  shall  be  quite  disappointed  if 
she  is  not  very  jiretty,  and  graceful,  and  fascinating." 


Stella  Wants  to   Know.  195 

**Now  you  are  going  from  one  extreme  to  tlie  otlier.'' 

'*  But  this  last  is  a  good,  generous  extreme,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  She  may  be  admirably  suited  to  bo  Mr.  Stanley's 
wife  without  being  either  pretty,  or  fascinating,  or  even 
graceful.'' 

*'  I  shall  be  so  sorry  for  him  if  she  isn't  all  three. 
Shall  I  write  and  congratulate  him  ?  " 

*'  Wait  a  little,  and  hear  what  your  guardian  says." 

**  But  if  I  defer  doing  it  he  will  think  me  cool  and 
indifferent  about  his  happiness,  and  I'm  sure  I'm  not 
that." 

""Well,  as  vour  doing  so  can't  do  any  harm,  I  will  say 
yes." 

"Well,  I'll  write  at  once  and  give  him  all  our  news, 
and  tell  him  about  The  Hulk  and  that  dear  old  Mr. 
Ledger.  I  wonder  if  he  misses  us  all  very  much  ?  I 
quite  miss  him." 

"  lie  is  missing  you,  lam  sure.  lie  told  me  that 
you  had  come  like  a  rose  into  his  life." 

"  Poor  dear  man  !  I  wonder  what  his  story  is.  I 
asked  him  one  day  if  he  had  a  daughter,  and  ho  said  he 
'didn't  know.'  He  looked  so  pained  when  he  said  it, 
I  thought  at  once  he  must  have  had  some  great  sorrow. 
I  wish  he  would  tell  us,  don't  you  ?  We  might  be  able 
to  comfort  him." 

"  I  think  we  nuiy  do  that  without  probing  the  .secrets 
of  his  heart.  It  is  sometimes  more  merciful  not  to  lift 
the  veil." 

**  I  should  so  like  to  make  him  ]iaj)pier  :  that's  why  I 
want  to  know.  It's  not  curiosity.  Now  I'll  write  to 
Mr.  Stanley.  I  wonder  where  they  will  live  when  they 
come  back  to  England.'' 

She  wrote  her  letter,  and  it  was  a  model  of  alTeetion- 


196  Comrades  True. 

ate  frankness  and  friendship.  It  was  siicli  an  effortless 
letter,  too,  that  the  recipient  could  not  but  feel  that  it 
came  spontaneously  from  the  writer's  heart. 

Later  on  we  shall  see  how  it  was  received,  and  what 
its  effect  was  uj)on  the  lately-married  pair. 

Soon  after  this,  Mrs.  Clifford  had  a  little  holiday, 
which  she  spent  at  the  cottage  with  Stella.  Her  hus- 
band was  very  much  engaged  in ''^  spotting  winners" 
and  going  to  races,  so,  not  being  essential  to  him,  he 
gave  her  leave  to  go  and  stay  with  her  friends, 

"  Perhaps  that  girl  may  be  useful  to  us  some  day,  so 
you  may  as  well  cultivate  her,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE    CASKET. 

While  Mr.  Ledger's  liousekeeper  and  nurse  were 
wrangling  with  the  scarcely-veiled  mock  civility  of  their 
class  over  the  possibilities  contained  in  Mr.  Ledger's 
past  life,  the  crimson  morocco  case  and  the  little  picture 
framed  in  gold  which  the  nurse  had  ''chanced  to  see  " 
when  her  charge  had  fallen  asleep,  that  gentleman  was 
taking  out  the  contents  of  the  little  casket  with  trem- 
bling hands,  and  looking  at  them  with  sad  eyes. 

First  came  a  baby's  robe  of  such  exquisitely  fine  lace 
that  it  could  have  been  drawn  through  an  average-sized 
wedding-ring.  Then  a  pair  of  epaulettes,  showing  the 
rank  in  the  Royal  Navy  of  their  wearer — that  of  a 
Lieutenant,  namely.  Under  these  were  ^laltese  gold 
trinkets  of  more  or  less  value.  Protected  by  all  these 
materials  were  three  cases  containing  miniatures.  The 
larger  one  had  two  in  it,  a  fine  handsome  man  and  a 
charmingly  pretty  woman.  Another  held  a  finely- 
painted  one  of  a  solemn-eyed  pretty  child  of  four  or 
five.  The  third  was  that  of  a  grim-looking  man,  and 
under  it  was  a  slip  of  paper,  with  the  words  written  in 
ink,  that  was  yellow  and  speckled  with  age  :  "  From 
one  who  will  not  fail  you  when  the  one  you  have  chosen 

does." 

197 


198  Comrades  True. 

His  hand  did  not  tremble  as  he  took  this  slip  of 
paper  up,  nor  did  his  eyes  look  sad  as  he  read  it,  and 
looked  at  the  little  portrait  of  the  man  who  had  written 
it. 

"  It  was  finding  tliis  drove  me  mad,  and  was  my  ruin, 
though  I  knew  all  the  time  she  was  as  good  as  gold 
and  as  pure  as  a  lily.  But  she  kept  his  name  from  me  : 
that's  what  did  the  mischief.  She  wouldn't  be  '  dis- 
loyal,' as  she  called  it,  to  a  man  she  had  refused  for 
my  sake.  If  she  had  told  me  his  name,  I  would  have 
gone  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  to  seek  him,  and  would 
have  killed  him  in  a  fair  fight.  But  she  was  firm  as  a 
rock,  and  as  true  as  steel  to  him  ;  and  now  I  don't  know 
whether  she  is  alive  or  not,  or  whether  I  have  a  child." 

He  did  not  say,  or  even  mutter,  a  word  of  this.  He 
just  thought  it  sometimes  in  silence,  sometimes  in  a 
whispered  word  or  two.  He  had  brooded  over  the 
subject  for  many  a  long  year,  but  he  had  never  given 
himself  the  indulgence  of  such  luxury  of  sorrow  and 
remorse  as  he  was  enjoying  now  in  overhauling  the 
contents  of  the  morocco  casket. 

By  and  by  he  began  to  repack  it,  and  for  an  instant 
or  two  he  hesitated  as  to  whether  or  not  he  should  re- 
place the  miniature  last  described  in  its  old  position. 
Then  a  curious  feeling  possessed  him,  and  it  Avas  that 
perhaps  this  obnoxious  unknown  had  kept  his  word  and 
been  good  to  his  (Ledger's)  wife,  Avhen  he,  her  legal 
protector,  had  deserted  her.     He  thought  : 

"  Some  one  must  have  helped  her,  poor  girl  !  when  I 
sheered  off,  like  the  fool  I  was  !  She  was  too  proud  to 
appeal  to  me,  and  she  was  gone  when  I  went  to  find 
her.  Merciful  heaven  !  where  had  she  gone  that  from 
that  day  to  this  I  have  never  found  her  ?     Perhaps  he 


The  Casket.  199 

didn't  fail  her.  Perhaps  he  kept  my  wife  from  starving. 
Oh,  Tm  a  weak  old  fool,  and  it's  all  through  that 
pretty,  fair-haired  Miss  St.  Errol  being  so  kind  to  me." 

Then  he  went  on  to  think  what  an  unselfisli,  fine, 
high  nature  slie  had,  to  come  out  and  seem  bright  and 
cheerful,  in  order  to  brighten  and  cheer  up  an  "  old 
hunks"  like  himself,  when  she  had  such  a  weight  of 
woful  anxiety  to  bear  about  her  lover  at  the  front. 

"Wlien  he  had  carefully  replaced  the  whole  contents 
the  casket,  he  locked  it,  and  rang  the  bell. 

"Take  this  back  to  where  you  found  it.  When 
you've  done  that,  you  may  send  the  nurse.'* 

The  housekeeper  lingered  for  a  moment  or  two,  while 
Mr.  Ledger  was  picking  up  his  newspaper  and  adjust- 
ing his  spectacles. 

**  What  do  you  want  ?  Is  that  young  scamp  of  a  boy 
out  on  his  trolley  and  not  doing  the  garden  again  ?  " 
he  asked  sharply. 

"  No,  sir.     It's  the  nurse." 

**Wliatof  her  ?" 

"  She's  a  gossip." 

"  How  do  yoii  know  ?" 

"She  says  you  looked  at  a  picture  in  a  gold  frame. 
She  ain't  fit  to  be  here." 

Mr.  Ledger  laid  the  paper  down,  took  off  his  spec- 
tacles, and  looked  at  her. 

"  She  will  not  gossip  here  again.     Send  her  to  me." 

The  old  sailor's  brows  were  knitted  in  a  way  she 
had  never  seen  before,  not  even  when  he  had  caught  the 
scamp  of  a  boy  out  in  some  breach  of  duty.  She  opened 
her  lips  to  speak,  but  the  words  did  not  come,  tlicu 
marched  out  of  the  room  in  her  usual  silent  respectful 
manner,  and  sent  the  nurse  to  him.     When  she  came. 


200  Comrades  True. 

he  received  her  with  the  stern  serenity  for  which  he 
had  been  somewhat  famous  professionally.  It  looked 
like  a  calm,  but  those  who  had  known  him  knew  that 
beneath  that  calm  a  tempest  was  raging. 

"  You  have  committed  a  breach  of  discipline.  Yon 
are  dismissed  The  Hulk,  and  will  leave  here  within  the 
hour.     Bring  your  account  up  to  a  month  from  to-day." 

'^But,  sir "  the  bewildered  woman  was  beginning. 

"  Don't  answer  your  superior  officer  !  You're  dis- 
missed." 

She  began  to  cry  with  rage. 

"  You're  worse  than  judge,  jury,  and  court-martial 
all  rolled  into  one  ! "  she  gasped  out. 

"  You're  dismissed  the  ship.  Clear  out  ! "  he  said  ; 
and  she  cleared  out  with  a  promptitude  she  had  never 
exhibited  in  all  her  varied  experiences. 

Before  she  was  well  out  of  the  room  Mr.  Ledger 
had  put  on  his  spectacles  and  picked  up  his  paper.  But 
he  was  not  reading  ;  he  was  thinking. 

"  Now,  if  that  dear  girl  had  been  here,  she  wouldn't 
have  let  me  play  the  martinet  in  this  way." 

Punctually  to  the  moment,  half  an  hour  later,  the 
housekeepeer  brought  his  beef-tea.  Not  a  word  was 
said  by  either  of  them  about  the  little  incident  which 
had  broken  the  monotony  of  the  morning.  Mr.  Ledger 
handed  her  a  telegram,  addressed  to  the  head-surgeon 
of  the  hospital,  with  the  words  : 

''  Send  that  young  scamp  off  with  it  at  once.  He 
must  be  back  in  half  an  hour  and  report  himself." 

''  He  shall  be  back,  sir,"  the  housekeejDer  answered, 
with  a  somewhat  vindictive  compression  of  the  lips. 

She  had  been  censured  for  the  shortcomings  of  one 
fellow-creature  already  that  day,  and  she  was  not  dis- 


Tlic  Casket.  201 

posed  to  repeat  the  experience.  As  her  master  haiulcLl 
back  the  empty  cup  to  her,  he  asked  : 

"Vegetables  packed  ?'' 

**  Yes,  sir." 

*'  Wlio  by  ?  " 

"The  boy,  sir." 

**  Neatly  doue — all  ship-shape,  eh  ? "' 

"No,  sir." 

*'  Then,  why  the  deuce  dou't  you  do  them  yourself  ?  " 
he  asked  irascibly. 

"  I  will,  sir.*' 

"Do  it  until  I  can  take  command  of  theship  again.'' 

"Yes,  sir.*' 

She  wont  as  she  was  bidden  back  to  her  own  quarters, 
and  witnessed  the  departure  of  nurse  Xo.  1  and  the 
boy  with  the  telegram  with  supreme  but  sui)pressed 
pleasure.  Then,  the  house  being  so  tidy  and  dustless 
that  there  was  no  more  for  her  to  do  in  it,  she  sat  down 
to  knit  one  of  the  long  line  of  stockings  with  which  sho 
kept  her  master  supplied.  She  knitted  these  thoughts 
into  the  stocking  : 

"  The  same  old,  cold,  fierce  temper  ;  the  same  kind, 
true  lieart  ;  the  same  real  gentleman  that  he  always 
was.  My  poor  lamb  !  if  you'd  only  had  a  bit  of  patience 
with  him — well,  Jte  wouldn't  bo  here  now,  and  i/on 
wouldn't  be  in  your  grave,  and  /shouldn't  be  ignorant 
of  where  that  grave  is.  'Tis  a  tangled  skein,  as  I've 
read  somewhere  about  something  else  ;  but  if  I  can  ever 
wind  it  off  straight,  I  will." 

She  sat  there  knitting  and  thinking  these  thoughts 
for  an  Ihku-,  until  the  re})robatc  boy  camo  back  with 
tlie  great  tidings  that  all  the  fruit  and  vegetables  Mv. 
Ledger  could  spare  were  to  bo  sent  to  Mrs.  Ogilvie  at 


202  Comrades  True. 

her  town  address,  "  as  she  couldn't  get  any  nigh  so 
good  in  London." 

"That's  all  through  me/'  said  the  boy.  "That's 
because  of  the  way  I  work  the  ground.  He  ought  to 
raise  my  wages — that's  what  old  Marlinspike  ought  to 
do!" 

"  You  tell  him  that !  My  orders  are  that  you  are  to 
go  up  to  him  at  once.  Don't  stand  and  shiver  ;  go  up 
to  the  master  at  once  !  " 

The  boy  wished  he  had  never  spoken  his  foolish 
mind  or  lived.  Nevertheless,  he  obeyed  the  house- 
keeper's behest,  and  went  up  with  wobbling  knees  into 
his  (physically)  powerless  master's  presence. 

"  Have  you  sold  the  vegetables  to  the  usual  cus- 
tomers ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  You  young  rascal,  you  packed  them  untidily  ! " 

The  boy  put  a  cufE  up  to  his  eye  to  represent  tears, 
and  at  the  sight,  though  he  knew  it  was  humbug, 
Mr.  Ledger  repented  of  his  determination  to  give  that 
boy  such  a  wigging  as  would  influence  him  for  his  own 
good  for  life.  He  remembered  the  severity  with  which 
he  had  treated  the  gossiping  nurse,  and  of  how  he  had 
thought  that  if  Stella  St.  Errol  had  been  by  he  would 
not  have  played  the  martinet.  So  he  overcame  the  boy 
by  giving  him  a  shilling,  and  telling  him  to  "  go  and 
get  himself  some  oranges."  The  boy  took  the  shil- 
ling, and  got  himself  various  condiments  at  the  village 
shop,  which  made  him  sick  and  ill.  He  couldn't  do  a 
stroke  of  work  in  the  garden  for  two  days  ;  but  as  the 
housekeeper  was  mute  on  the  matter,  Mr.  Ledger  nursed 
the  happy  delusion  that  his  control  of  temper  had 
made  that  boy  dutiful  and  good. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

THE    FAILLKE    OF   CAPTAIN    BENTICK. 

Captain  Basil  Bentick,  in  saving  the  life  of  hb. 
Colonel  at  Modeler  River,  nearly  lost  his  life.  Ilis 
wounds  were  of  snch  a  terribly  severe  character  that  he 
was  invalided  home,  and  on  board  the  transport  he  got 
a  wound  of  a  far  more  serious  nature  than  the  one  he 
had  received  at  Modeler  River. 

The  Colonel  whose  life  he  had  saved  came  homo  in 
the  same  ship,  and  witli  him  came  his  daughter.  Iler 
gratitude  to  the  brave  young  fellow  who  had  rescued 
her  father  was  boundless.  She  was  young,  beautiful, 
and  gifted  with  that  peculiar  fascination  which  is  the 
inheritance  of  so  many  Irish  girls.  A  Dublin  girl  with 
that  subtle  grace  of  manner  which  had  come  down  to 
her  from  a  Spanish  grandmother.  Before  they  had 
been  together  three  days  his  admiration  for  her  was  as 
boundless  as  her  gratitude  to  him. 

Captain  Bentick  was  a  gentleman  ;  not  only  this, 
but  he  had  the  fine,  chivalrous  instincts  of  a  soldier. 
Moreover,  he  was  a  clever  fellow,  who  could  write 
stinging  articles  and  stirring  poems.  Kathleen  Dcvoran 
was  clever,  too,  and  delightfully  appreciative.  He 
deferred  telling  her  that  lie  was  engaged  to  be  mar- 
ried  until  it  was  too  late.     He  awoke  to  the  fact  one  day 

203 


204  Comrades  True. 

that  not  only  was  he  in  love  with  her,  but  she  was  des- 
perately in  love  with  him.  He  could  not  help  but  feel 
that  he  was  acting  a  coward's  part  towards  both  Stella 
and  Kathleen.  But  do  what  he  would,  struggle  as  he 
did,  he  knew  that  his  heart  had  failed  him  where  Stella 
was  concerned,  and  that  Miss  Devoran  was  the  love  of 
his  life. 

Then  another  and  more  painful  complication  arose. 
Colonel  Devoran  caught  enteric  fever,  and  sank  fast. 
When  he  was  dying  he  spoke  out  openly  to  Basil  Ben- 
tick. 

"  I  am  leaving  my  only  child  alone  in  the  world  as 
far  as  relations  on  my  side  and  her  mother's  are  con- 
cerned. But  I  can  see  how  things  are  between  Kate 
and  you.  Make  her  a  kind  husband,  Bentick,  and 
God's  blessing  be  upon  you  as  you  deal  with  her." 

That  night  Kathleen  Devoran  was  an  orphan,  crying 
bitterly  in  the  arms  of  the  only  friend  she  had  left  in 
the  world,  and  Captain  Bentick  was  on  the  verge  of  an 
attack  of  brain  fever.  His  course  was  not  clear  to  him. 
His  conscience  was  in  a  state  of  uproar.  "  Why  had  he 
been  born  ?  "  he  asked  himself,  to  have  been  the  cause  of 
bringing  such  confusion  into  the  lives  of  these  two  sweet 
girls  ?  The  question  was  one  to  which  no  one  answer 
could  be  given.  Still,  something  must  be  done — some- 
tliing  must  be  settled  when  they  landed  at  Plymouth. 
It  tortured  him  to  think  that  perhaps  his  people  Avould 
bring  Stella  there  to  meet  him.  And  his  heart  belonged 
to  another  woman  now,  and  he  was  in  honor  bound  to 
both  of  them,  for  how  could  he  disregard  the  dying 
request  of  his  chief — of  the  Colonel  whose  life  he  had 
saved  at  the  risk  of  his  own  ? 

Kathleen  Devoran   was    very  ill    after   her  father's 


The   Failure  of  Captain  Bentick.      205 

death,  and  every  one  turned  to  Captain  Bentick  for 
guidance  and  instructions  concerning  lier.  He  could 
not  disregard  the  trust  which  had  been  confided  to  him 
by  her  dying  father.  At  the  same  time  Stelhi  was 
waiting  for  him  in  Enghmd — Stelhi,  for  whom  he  had 
conceived  a  headstrong  passion  (in  the  course  of  a  day) 
which  liad  now  exhausted  itself.  AVhat  a  cur  he  would 
show  up  to  be  in  the  eyes  of  all  the  men  in  his  regiment  ! 
What  a  defaulter  from  the  ranks  of  chivalry,  honor, 
and  honesty  !  How  ho  lamented  that  he  had  not  shared 
the  fate  of  hundreds  of  better  men  who  had  stopped 
the  Boers'  bullets  I  How  he  dreaded  meeting  the  uncle 
and  annt  who  had  been  like  parents  to  him  !  And 
having  gone  through  all  these  sensations,  he  had  to  go 
back  and  go  through  them  again,  and  each  day  brought 
him  nearer  to  Plymouth — and  Stella. 

One  thing  was  certain,  and  that  was  that  Stella  must 
not  be  deluded,  or  have  any  well-meaning  dust  thrown 
in  lier  eyes  in  a  poor  attempt  to  spare  her  feelings  for 
a  time.  The  bitter,  shameful  truth  would  have  to  be 
told  to  her  sooner  or  later — the  sooner,  the  better  for 
every  one.  But  after  it  was  told  what  kind  of  place 
would  he  hold  among  men  of  honor  ? 

There  were  moments  when  he  almost  resolved  to  cast 
his  life's  happiness  and  Kate  Devoran's  to  tlie  winds,  and 
sacriiice  both  on  the  altar  of  his  pledged  word  of  honor. 
Then  the  sharp  reminder  came  that  every  one  on  the  ship 
thought  that  he  and  Kate  were  engaged.  There  was 
her  reputation  to  be  thought  of  before  everytiiing  else. 
He  was  in  a  cleft  stick  with  a  vengeance. 

Meanwhile,  Kate  was  so  toucliingly  and  helplessly 
reliant  on  him  that  he  could  not  bring  himself  up  to  the 
point  of  telling  that  away  in  England  there  was  a  girl 


2o6  Comrades  True. 

waiting  who  had  a  prior  claim  on  him.  If  he  broke  his 
vows  and  disregarded  this  claim,  he  would  be  cut  by 
the  county.  He  could  not  face  it,  he  resolved,  one 
minute ;  the  next,  a  look  into  Kate's  sweet,  Irish  gray 
eyes  would  upset  the  high  resolve,  and  cast  him  adrift 
upon  a  sea  of  doubt  and  uncertainty  again. 

As  the  steamer  neared  Plymouth,  where  they  were  to 
land,  this  doubt  and  uncertainty  increased  tenfold.  He 
knew  that  his  uncle  and  aunt  would  be  there  to  meet 
their  precious  idol,  and  he  also  knew  that  in  their 
mistaken  idolatry  they  would  be  sure  to  bring  the  girl 
to  whom  he  was  engaged  with  them.  What  would  they 
feel,  poor  old  people !  when  they  found  their  idol 
shattered  by  his  own  hand  ? 

When  they  came  into  port,  a  tug  came  off  to  meet 
them  with  letters  and  telegrams.  One  from  his  uncle 
informed  him  that  "  they  would  be  at  the  landing-place 
in  a  carriage  to  meet  him."  His  heart  went  lower  and 
lower  at  this.     He  had  already  told  Kate  that  he  should 

^'  put  her  under  the  care  of  his  aunt  until "     He 

did  not  say  until  what,  but  she  took  it  for  granted  that 
it  would  be  until  he  married  her. 

Kate  was  so  weak  that  she  had  to  be  carried  up  to 
the  carriage  in  which  the  joyfully-expectant  trio  were 
awaiting  their  wounded  warrior's  return.  He  told  the 
men  Avho  were  carrying  her  in  a  deck-chair  to  wait 
while  he  stopped  to  explain  her  appearance  there.  But 
she  was  near  enough  to  see  that  all  three  occupants  of 
the  carriage  embraced  him,  and  that  one  was  a  young 
and  pretty  woman.  ''What  could  it  mean?'^  she 
wondered,  for  Basil  had  never  spoken  to  her  of  either 
a  sister  or  a  cousin. 

"  I  must  ask   you  to  take  care  of  my  late  Colonel's 


The   Failure  of  Captain  Bcntick.      207 

daughter,  aunt,  "  he  began  awkwardly.  lie  died  on  tlio 
voyage,  and  she  has  no  rchitions  or  friends  in  En£;land. 
I  j>ronnsed  to  look  after  her,  poor  girl  I  she  has  been 
very  ill." 

Instantly  Mrs.  Bentick's  warm  synipatliics  were 
aroused.  They  ha<l  read  with  tears  and  smiles  mingled 
(in  the  curious  way  they  do  mingle  when  ho])e  and  fear 
are  awake  in  our  hearts)  of  Basil's  gallant  rescue  of  his 
Colonel,  and  it  touched  them  all  deeply  to  hear  that  ho 
had  died  on  the  way  home,  and  that  his  daughter  stood 
alone  in  the  world. 

*'  Let  her  have  the  seat  in  the  carriage,  and  Basil  and 
I  will  go  in  a  cab,"  Stella  pleaded,  and  the  plan  was 
promptly  decided  upon,  for  what  could  be  more  natural 
than  that  the  betrothed  lovers  should  wish  to  be  alone 
together  in  the  first  hour  of  their  meeting  after  he  had 
gone  through  such  peril,  and  she  such  anxiety  ? 

But  Kate's  brow  clouded  when  it  was  proposed  to  her. 
She  had  "  the  right  to  Basil,"  she  felt,  and  she  felt  it 
to  be  a  piece  of  heartless  injustice  that  he  should  go  off 
in  a  cab  alone  with  a  young,  pretty,  forward  woman 
who  was  not  his  sister,  but  who  had  embraced  him  in  a 
more  or  less  sisterly  way.  The  fascinating  little  Irish 
beauty  had  a  bit  of  the  fury  about  her,  and  her  nature 
was  such  an  intensely  jealous  one  that  any  slight,  even 
if  it  existed  merely  in  her  imagination,  roused  that  fury 
to  fever  pitch. 

She  was  very  pale  and  frail  still,  and  though  she  had 
no  mourning  yet,  her  black  dress  and  wraps  made  her 
look  paler  still.  But  the  color  leapt  back  into  her  face 
with  almost  cruel  heat  and  force  when  Basil  Bcntick 
followc<l  Stella  into  the  cal). 

"  Basil  ought  not  tu  have  left  me  the  first  day  wc  are 


2o8  Comrades  True. 

here/'  she  began  fretfully,  as  they  drove  off ;  and 
though  the  old  people  were  surprised  at  the  familiar 
mention  of  their  nephew,  they  overlooked  the  mistake 
because  of  her  youth  and  beauty  and  friendlessness,  and 
proceeded  to  comfort  and  cosset  her,  and  to  tell  her  that 
she  would  soon  have  other  friends.  "  She  might  reckon 
themselves  among  the  number,"  they  said. 

"  But  no  one  can  be  what  Basil  is  to  me,"  she  said 
haughtily.  "  He  hasn't  been  able  to  tell  you  before, 
but  I  will  tell  you  now.     He  and  I  are  engaged " 

'^  Engaged  ! "  broke  from  the  lips  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Bentick  simultaneously. 

"  Yes,"  Kathleen  said,  almost  with  defiance.  She 
was  annoyed  by  the  tone  of  mixed  shock  and  disappro- 
bation with  which  they  had  uttered  the  one  word. 
*'  Yes,  engaged.  Poor  dear  papa  knew  how  fond  we  were 
of  each  other,  and  so  when  he  was  dying  " — here  she 
burst  out  crying,  and  had  to  pause  for  a  few  minutes,  dur- 
ing which  pause  the  dear  old  people  looked  at  each  other 
in  speechless  agony —  '"so  when  he  was  dying,"  Kath- 
leen resumed,  "'he  said,  oh!  about  loving  Basil  as  a 
son,  and  hoped  he  would  be  a  good  husband  to  me. 
We  couldn't  tell  you  before,  because  we  were  at  sea, 
you  know.  And  now,  oh  !  don't  be  angry  with  me. 
Basil  and  I  love  each  other  so  much.  Don't  be  angry 
with  us  ! " 

The  girl  burst  out  afresh,  and  with  aching  hearts 
they  had  to  play  the  parts  of  consolers,  while  they 
themselves  were  in  dire  need  of  consolation.  While 
Kathleen  was  absorbed  in  her  wo,  they  arranged  that 
not  a  word  of  this  must  be  breathed  until  they  had 
learnt  the  whole  story  from  Basil.  The  poor  girl  was 
evidently  terribly  weak  and  sadly  excitable.     She  might 


The    Failure  of  Captain    Rentick.       209 

possibly  have  inistakou  his  words,  ami  assumoil  a  posi- 
tion that  Basil  had  never  given  her  the  right  to  assume. 
They  would  give  him  the  benefit  of  the  doubt,  and 
*'  get  Miss  Devoran  away  to  a  bedroom  with  as  little 
delay  as  possible, "  This  they  said  aloud  to  eacli  other 
as  they  drew  up  at  tlie  door  of  the  Grand  Ilotol,  and 
Kathleen  was  too  weak  to  gainsay  them.  So  when 
Captain  Bentick  and  Stella  arrived  a  few  minutes  later, 
the  fair  intruder  was  safely  ensconced  in  her  bedroom, 
lying  half  asleep  on  a  lounge. 

Immediate  danger  was  averted,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ben- 
tick  hoped.  Their  hopes  were  but  half-hearted  ones, 
however,  for  Basil  was  strangely  depressed  during  din- 
ner, and  Stella  was  feverishly  excited  and  almost  gay. 
One  significant  speech  she  made  that  distressed  them, 
and  made  Captain  Bentick  feel  worse  than  he  had  ever 
felt  in  his  life, 

"  Tlie  voyage  has  been  a  trying  one  to  Basil,  auntie. 
Now  that  he  has  come  home,  we  must  do  everything 
that  every  one  can  do  to  make  him  happy." 

"  You  can  make  him  happier  than  any  one  else,  my 
darling  girl,"  Mr,  Bentick  said  with  some  heat,  and 
Stella  winced  a  little,  but  recovered  herself  in  a  mo- 
ment, and  said  : 

"  At  any  rate  I  shall  try  ;  you're  sure  of  that,  arc 
you  not,  Basil  ?  " 

He  could  not  answer  her.  He  felt  as  if  his  heart  was 
breaking. 

It  was  an  awkward  time  after  diiuier.  and  more  pain- 
fully awkward  still  when  ^Frs.  Bentick  and  Stella  found 
themselves  alone  in  the  private  sitting-room.  For 
then  Stella  flung  herself  into  Mrs.  Bcntick's  arms,  and 
sobbed  out : 
14 


210  Comrades  True. 

"  It's  over — all  over  !  " 

"  Tell  rae,"  Mrs.  Bentick  managed  to  say,  and  then 
Stella  lifted  her  head  and  spoke  out  proudly  : 

"  Don't  you  see  ?  He  doesn't  love  me  any  longer. 
When  we  met  he  would  not  meet  my  lips,  and  driving 
back  here  just  now  he  was  so  silent  and  miserable  that 
he  nearly  broke  my  heart.  I  have  lost  his  heart,  and  I 
won't  keep  the  promise  of  his  hand." 

"Our  boy,  our  Basil,  to  have  done  this  !"  Mrs.  Ben- 
tick  wailed. 

"  He  can't  help  it ;  we  can't  help  it ;  but  we  can  bear 
it." 

"  Has  he  told  you  this  ?  " 

"  No,  oh  no  !  There  was  no  need  for  him  to  tell  me. 
I  read  it  as  plainly  as  if  it  had  been  printed  in  a  book. 
It's  Miss  Devoran,  of  course.  1  felt  it  the  moment  1 
saw  him  look  at  her." 

''  It  Avill  break  my  heart.  I  believed  him  to  be  the 
soul  of  honor." 

"  Honor  would  keep  him  to  me,  I  have  no  doubt,  for 
he  is  the  soul  of  honor.  But  his  love  has  gone  from 
me.  I  want  him  to  be  happy  in  his  own  way  ;  and  I 
will  try  to  be  happy  in  mine." 

"  There  is  not  much  prospect  of  happiness  for  any  of 
us  after  this,  I  fear,"  Mrs.  Bentick  said  sadly.  "How 
shall  I  look  at  our  boy  after  this  ?  How  shall  we  ever 
face  your  guardian  and  Mrs.  Ogilvie  ?  " 

"  I'll  teach  you  how  to  do  it,"  Stella  said  thoughtfully. 
"  Now  I'm  going  to  bed  ;  I  don't  think  I  could  see 
any  one  else  to-night.  To-morrow  I  will  write  to  Cap- 
tain Bentick  and  release  him  ;  and  you  will  be  kind  to 
the  girl,  won't  you  ?  " 

But  Mrs,  Bentick  was  not  prepared  to  give  that  prom- 


The  Failure  of  Captain  Bentick.      211 

ise.  Indeed,  she  could  not  tolerate  the  sight  of  the 
interloper,  and  would  not  have  done  it  if  Stella  had 
not  pleaded  the  girl's  absolute  friendlessuess. 

"  I  should  wish  her  to  make  the  whole  of  the  rest  of 
the  world  her  friends  if  she  had  only  let  Basil  alone. 
As  it  is,  I  feel  sure  she  must  have  made  the  first  ad- 
vances, lie,  an  engaged  man,  would  never  have  done 
it." 

"  I  will  see  Basil  before  I  go,"  Stella  said  the  next 
morning,  coming  down  equipped  for  her  journey  back 
to  Mrs.  Ogilvie's  cottage.  "  He  needn't  mind  seeing 
me  ;  I  won't  say  anything  to  hurt  him." 

"■  He  is  thoroughly  abased  ;  his  madness  has  lost  him 
his  self-respect." 

"  She  doesn't  know  about  me,  does  she  ?  " 

"No,  nothing;  secrecy  and  deception  characterize 
the  whole  affair  according  to  my  idea  and  yours.  I  am 
not  disposed  to  judge  Basil  harshly." 

"Nor am  I,"  Stella  said  firmly,  "not  even  when  my 
heart  is  aching  so  horribly.  Oh,  poor  Basil  !  poor  Basil ! 
Some  dreadful  glamour  must  have  been  thrown  over 
him,  for  he  did  love  me  dearly.  Now  I  will  see  him, 
and  then  I  shall  be  ready  to  go." 

The  humiliation  and  abasement  of  a  man  she  loves  is 
never  a  pleasant  sight  to  a  woman,  liowever  badly  he 
may  have  treated  her.  She  shrank  from  the  sight  of 
the  spectacle  he  offered  to  her  gaze  when  presently  lie 
came  at  her  bidding. 

With  his  head  lowered  on  his  breast,  his  face  ashy 
white,  and  with  an  uudcscribable  air  of  shame  and 
sorrow  about  him,  he  was  a  pitiable  contrast  indeed  to 
the  gallant,    debonair  young  soldier   who  had    laid    his 


212  Comrades  True. 

heart  at  her  feet  and  pleaded  so  rapturously  for  hers  in 
return. 

Involuntarily  she  drew  herself  up  and  her  eyes  blazed. 
The  thought  had  crossed  her  mind  that  he  would  not 
have  dared  to  treat  her  in  this  way  if  she  had  a  '^  name 
of  her  own,  or  a  man  of  her  own  class  to  defend  her.'' 
But  she  speedily  dismissed  this  unworthy  thought,  and 
remembered  that  no  real  brother  could  have  shown  her 
more  affection  and  honor  than  St.  Errol  had  done, 
and  that  no  mother  could  have  loved  her  more  dearly 
than  Mrs.  Ogilvie  did. 

"You  have  come  to  say  good-by  ?  I  am  glad  of 
that,"  she  said  softly,  and  at  the  words  he  advanced  a 
step  or  two  nearer  to  her,  and  knelt  at  her  feet,  cover- 
ing his  face  with  his  hands. 

'^Oh,  not  that,  not  that,  Basil  !"  she  said,  with  des- 
perate earnestness  ;  "  don't  let  my  last  sight  of  yon,  my 
last  thought  of  you,  be  that  you  humbled  yourself." 

"If  I  didn't  humble  myself  in  your  presence  I  should 
be  a  greater  scoundrel  and  villain  than  I  am,"  he 
groaned.  "  I  have  been  a  mad  fool,  but  I  am  not  quite 
a  blackguard  ! " 

She  had  meant  to  say  a  few  words  in  kindness,  but 
now  she  found  she  could  not  speak.  The  sight  of  his 
abject  misery  was  worse  to  bear  than  her  own  sore 
sorrow. 

"  Get  up,  get  up  !  "  she  cried,  and  held  her  hands  out 
to  raise  him  from  his  kneeling  posture,  and  while  she 
was  in  the  act  of  doing  it  the  door  was  opened  violently, 
and  Kathleen  Devoran  burst  into  the  room. 

She  was  beside  herself  with  fury,  and  demanded 
such  a  lot  of  extraordinary  things  in  yells  of  rage  that 
very  soon  nearly  every  one  in  the  hotel  was  aware  that 


The  Failure  of  Captain  Bentick.      213 

a  young  lady,  who  was  cither  cU-mentetl  or  suffering 
from  braiu-fever,  was  an  inmate  of  it.  Among  otlior 
things,  she  proclaimed  aloud  to  every  one  Avho  listened 
to  her  that  unless  Basil  got  a  special  license  and  mar- 
ried licr  at  once  slie  wouUl  destroy  herself,  and  added 
the  terrible  words,  '*  I'm  not  the  first  of  my  family  wlio 
has  done  it  on  being  thwarted."  Under  the  influence 
of  jealousy,  the  fascinating,  gentle  girl  who  had  cajoled 
liim  into  loving  her  on  the  voyage  home  became  a  re- 
lentless, dangerous  creature,  with  neither  justice  nor 
mercy  in  her  composition. 

Under  these  circumstances  the  Benticks  thought  the 
best  thing  they  could  do  would  be  to  take  Miss  J^cvo- 
ran  with  them  ;  but  for  once  they  were  stern,  or 
rather  firm,  with  their  nephew.  Nothing  would  in- 
duce them  to  hear  of  his  returning  with  them  or  his 
seeing  Miss  Devoran  until  he  had  found  out  something 
about  herfamily. 

Her  threat  of  suicide,  though  it  was  uttered  in  a 
burst  of  mental  passion  and  physical  weakness,  had 
made  a  distinctly  unpleasant  impression  upon  them  all. 

Stella  went  back  as  bravely  as  she  could  to  tell  the 
story  of  her  broken  engagement,  and  Basil,  as  soon  as 
he  was  strong  enough,  went  over  to  Ireland  to  find  out 
what  he  could  about  the  Devorans,  and  they  were  all 
in  such  a  state  of  tension  that  life  seemed  scarcely 
worth  living. 

The  clouds  of  war  wore  hanging  heavily  over  every- 
thing. Not  only  were  those  who  had  dear  ones  at  the 
front,  or  dear  ones  going  there,  in  a  statoof  barely  sup- 
pressed anxiety  and  anguish,  but  every  one  left  at  homo 
WiLS  suffering  some  [)rivation  more  or  less.  Trade  was 
bad.     People  could  neither  allord  nor  luul  the  huart  to 


214  Comrades  True. 

entertain,  and  this  threw  artists  of  every  kind  and  de- 
greeout  of  work,  and  so  into  poverty. 

Among  the  hundreds  and  thousands  who  suffered  was 
Mrs.  Clifford.  Her  funds  were  exhausted,  she  could  get 
no  new  engagements,  and  her  husband  was  ill,  and  sadly 
in  need  of  the  filthy  lucre  which  he  had  squandered  so 
recklessly.  Until  she  was  at  the  last  gasp  she  felt  that 
she  would  not  apply  to  Stella  for  aid,  dearly  as  she  loved 
the  girl,  and  dearly  as  she  knew  Stella  would  like  to 
help  her. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

LORD    ST.    EUROL's    GIFT. 

When  Stella  arrived  at  the  cottage,  not  quite  unex- 
pectedly, for  she  had  wired  to  say  she  was  coming 
home,"  she  was  met  by  the  painful  news  that  her  old 
friend  was  very  dangerously  ill  with  the  worst  type  of 
influenza.  It  was  of  such  an  infections  kind  that  the 
doctor  would  not  allow  Stella  to  sec  her,  and  had  taken 
it  upon  himself  to  telegraph  to  her  guardian,  whose  Lon- 
don address  he  had  to  come  and  take  her  away  at  once. 

'*  But  I  can't  go  with  Lord  St.  Errol,"  Stella  began  ; 
"  he  is  quite  young  and  unmarried." 

"  My  dear  young  lady,  you  cannot  stay  here — you 
shall  not  stay  here.  You  must  have  many  friends  to 
whom  you  can  go.  In  fact,  Mrs.  Ogilvietold  me,  when 
your  wire  came  this  morning,  that  she  had  hoped  you 
were  going  to  be  the  guest  of  your  fiancees  uncle  and 
aunt  for  some  time.  " 

"  I  have  no  fiance"  Stella  said  firmly  ;  ''  my  engage- 
ment is  broken  off." 

The  doctor  almost  jumped  from  his  chair  as  he  heard 
these  words. 

"  Bless  my  soul,  this  is  very  sad  and  suddiMi  !  l*ray 
pardon  me  for  speaking  on  tlie  subject. " 

'*  There  is  nothing  to  pardon.     Mrs.  Ogilvie'swas  a 

215 


2i6  Comrades  True. 

natural  remark,  and  you  were  right  to  repeat  it.  It 
is  sudden — very  sudden.  I  only  knew  it  myself  last 
night." 

''  It  will  shock  Mrs.  Ogilvie  terribly  to  hear  it.  She 
was  telling  me  her  hopes  for  your  happiness,  and  she 
described  Captain  Bentick  as  such  a  splendid  fellow  in 
every  way."" 

"  So  he  is,"  Stella  said,  with  decision.  "  He  is  abso- 
lutely blameless  in  the  matter.  Circumstances  have 
been  too  strong  for  him,  and  have  rendered  his  marry- 
ing me  impossible.  That  is  why  I  have  come  home  to 
Mrs.  Ogilvie,  and  why  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  go 
back  to  the  Benticks." 

'^  It  will  be  a  terrible,  a  dangerous  shock  to  Mrs. 
Ogilvie,"  the  doctor  said  thoughtfully. 

"^  Then  don't  give  it  to  her,"  Stella  said  promptly. 
"  I  have  thought  of  a  scheme  by  which  she  can  be  kept 
in  the  dark  about  my  luckless  fate  until  she  is  strong 
enough  to  bear  it.  I  will  go  away  with  my  guardian, 
and  go  up  to  a  friend  of  mine  in  London — Mrs.  Clif- 
ford. I  wonder  I  didn't  think  of  her  at  once.  She 
will  take  me,  I  know,  until  Mrs.  Ogilvie  is  well  enough 
to  have  me  back.  The  difficulty  is  disposed  of,  you  see. 
And  if  you  will  only  let  me  see  her  I  shall  be  almost 
happy.  I  am  not  a  bit  afraid  of  influenza.  I  am  very 
strong  and  healthy." 

'^I  positively  forbid  your  doing  so — at  any  rate,  un- 
til Lord  St.  Errol  arrives.  He  may  be  here  any  mo- 
ment now.  Jem  has  gone  over  in  the  pony-trap  to  the 
station  to  meet  him." 

"I'll  go  and  speak  to  the  servants,"  Stella  said. 

"  They  are  both  laid  up.  There  are  two  nurses  in 
the   house — one   to  look  after  Mrs.  Ogilvie,  and  the 


Lord  St.  ErroTs  Gift.  217 

other  has  the  servants  in  charge.  The  whole  atmos- 
phere is  charged  witli  influenza  germs.  I  shall  have 
you  on  my  hands  next  if  Lord  Errol  doesn't  take  you 
away  very  soon." 

"  The  whole  atmosphere  of  London  is  charged  with 
influenza  germs.  I  shall  be  just  as  likely  to  catch  it 
there  as  here." 

**  Couldn't  your  friend,  Mrs.  Clifford,  go  with  you 
into  the  country  to  Errol  Castle  or  Rose-in-Vale  ?" 

"She  has  a  husband  who  mightn't  like  it.  lie  left 
her  for  a  good  many  years,  but  he  can't  bear  her  to 
leave  him  for  a  minute  if  he  has  no  other  amusement." 

*' Possibly  he  might  bo  able  to  accompany  you.  Li 
that  case,  you  could  stay  with  your  guardian  at  cither 
of  his  places." 

"I  couldn't  go  to  Errol  Castle,"  Stella  said,  with  a 
little  sorrowful  shake  of  the  head. 

"  It  would  be  the  healthiest  place  in  the  world  for 
you.     It's  in  the  Peak  District,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  quite  near  to  the  Bentick's  place  ;  I  could  not 
go  there,"  she  was  answering,  when  Jem  drove  uj)  to 
the  door,  and  the  next  moment  St.  Errol  was  in  the 
room. 

"  Why,  my  dear  girl,  how's  this  ?  How  could  you 
leave  Bentick  so  soon  ?  " 

"  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it  presently." 

**  The  sooner  you  take  Miss  St.  Errol  away,  the 
better.  The  illness  is  a  very  infectious  one,  and  if  you 
start  at  once  you  will  catch  the  next  up-train,"  Ihc 
doctor  said,  so  anxiously  that  St.  Errol  did  a.s  he  was 
desired,  and  took  Stella  away  at  once. 

"  Xow  tell  me  about  it,"  St.  Errol  said,  as  soon  as 
they  had  settled    down  comfortably  in    a  raihvay-car- 


2i8  Comrades  True. 

riage.  "  How  is  Bentick,  and  why  have  you  behaved 
so  badly  to  him  as  to  van  away  from  him  so  soon  ?  " 

"I  hardly  know  how  to  begin/' she  said,  with  a  little 
gulp.  ''  First  promise  me  that  you  won't  be  very  angry 
when  I  tell  you.'' 

"  My  dear  child  " — he  took  her  hand  very  kindly 
— '*  don't  be  afraid  ;  I  can  never  be  angry  with 
you." 

"  And  you  mustn't  be  angry  with  him."  He  started, 
and  looked  at  her  questioningly.  '''Yes,  it's  that/' she 
said  mournfully — "  he  has  seen  some  one  he  likes  better, 
and  onr  engagement  has  come  to  an  end." 

St.  Errol's  face  turned  black-red  with  anger. 

''  He  has  dared  to  do  this  ?  He  has  dared  to  treat 
yott  so  ?  " 

"  You  promised  you  would  not  be  angry/'  she 
pleaded. 

"  '  Anger '  is  not  a  hard  enough  word  to  express  my 
feeling  towards  him." 

"Wait  until  you  have  heard  all  about  it,  and  then 
you  will  see  that  he  could  hardly  help  himself." 

''Nothing  can  extenuate  his  conduct." 

Then  she  told  him  the  whole  story  as  far  as  she 
knew  it,  and  after  she  had  told  it,  in  gentle,  broken  ac- 
cents, his  wrath  was  more  furiously  kindled  against 
Captain  Bentick  than  ever.  But,  in  deference  to 
Stella's  broken-heartedly  expressed  desire,  he  abstained 
from  blaming  Captain  Bentick  as  wrathfully  as  he 
would  otherwise  have  done. 

Presently  she  told  him  of  her  wish  to  go  to  Mrs. 
Clifford  for  a  time,  and  he  acquiesced  heartily  in  the 
plan. 

"  I  will  take  you  straight  to  her/'  he  said,  and  his 


Lord  St.  Errol's  Gift,  219 

heart  beat  quickly  at  the  thouglit  of  again  seeing  tlic 
woman  to  whom  tliat  lieart  liad  bet-u  so  constant. 

''I  know  slie  will  have  me,  because  she's  as  fond  of 
me  as  I  am  of  her,  and  I  don't  think  Mr.  Clifford  will 
object.  If  he  does,  what  f<Jian  I  do?  "she  said  pit- 
eously,  as  tliey  were  driving  along  to  the  Cliffords' 
lodgings  ;  and  tlion  his  generous,  kindly  nature,  his 
constant  consideration  for  others  before  himself,  made 
him  make  the  same  proposition  as  the  doctor  had 
made. 

*'  I  can  square  Mr.  Clifford,  if  he  offers  the  least  ob- 
jection ;  but  I  don't  think  he  will.  It  would  be  a 
good  plan,  I  think,  as  you  tell  me  Mrs.  Clifford  is  not 
overdone  with  engagements  just  now,  if  you  went  down 
to  Kose-in-Vale.  She  would  be  your  chaperon,  of 
course,  but  you  would  be  the  young  *  lady  of  the  laud,' 
and  you  love  the  place,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Love  it  !     I  should  think  \  did  ! " 

"Well,  dear  Stella,  it's  your  own  now.  I  have  just 
made  you  a  little  gift  of  it." 

"  St.  Errol  !  " 

**  Let  me  have  a  look  in  your  face,  and  see  if  you're 
pleased.  Yes,  I  see  you  are  ;  but  I  won't  have  pleasure 
and  tears  mixed." 

"  You  meant  it  as  a  wedding-gift  to  Basil  and  me, 
and  now  that  I  am  not  going  to  be  married  as  you 
hoped,  I  cau't  take  it." 

'*  I  meant  it  as  a  gift  to  you.  I  made  you  the  present 
of  it  before  I  thought  you  were  going  to  marry — before 
we  even  knew  Captain  Bentick.  Plejwe  God,  we'll  have 
many  a  happy  day  there  yet,  Stella  I  II(»lIoa  I  here  we 
are  ! " 

The  cab  stopped  before  Stella  could   nuike  any  re- 


220  Comrades  True. 

joinder  to  words  that  had  touched  her  to  her  heart's 
core.  From  the  first  day  of  his  having  had  the  respon- 
sibility of  her  thrown  upon  him  he  had  grown  thought- 
fully considerate,  this  young  man  who  had  before  that 
been  irresponsible  and  happy-go-lucky  as  the  majority 
of  young  men  who  are  cast  upon  their  own  devices  are 
apt  to  be.  But  in  the  first  days  of  his  unexpected  pro- 
motion and  elation  he  had  thought  of  her — a  stranger 
to  him — and  made  things  secure  and  safe  for  her. 

But  though  she  could  make  no  rejoinder  in  words, 
she  gave  his  hand  such  a  grip,  as  he  heljaed  her  out  of 
the  cab^  as  gave  him  full  assurance  of  her  gratitude  and 
sisterly  love. 

The  Cliffords*  lodgings  were  in  Eegent  Street,  in 
order  that  for  her  sake  professionally  they  might  be  in 
a  good  central  position.  They  were  rather  expensive, 
and  not  absolutely  uncomfortable.  The  master  of  the 
house  acted  as  hall-porter,  and  his  wife  cooked  superbly, 
it  may  be  said,  when  it  is  taken  into  consideration  that 
she  had  to  cook  for  three  sets  of  people,  each  one  of 
whom  had  a  distinctly  different  and  critical  taste. 

As  a  rule,  if  Mr.  Clifford  had  the  best  of  every 
delicacy  in  season  daintily  cooked  and  served,  he 
was  content.  But  just  now  some  bird  of  ill-omen  had 
whispered  "  Have  your  food  peptonized  "  in  his  ear.  So 
peptonized  it  was,  and  when,  after  much  j)reparation 
on  the  part  of  the  cook,  and  much  ill-concealed  nausea 
on  his  side,  he  gave  it  up,  a  twin-bird  whispered, 
"  Benger's  Food,"  which  is  a  delicious  mixture  in  itself, 
but  involves  some  forethought  and  labor  in  its  prepara- 
tion. Mr.  Clifford  roundly  asserted  that  he  liked  it 
better  than  anything  he  had  ever  tasted.  But  he  never 
liked  to  taste  it  when  it  was  ready,  a  peculiarity  which 


Lord  St.  Errol's  Gift.  221 

made  '*  Benger  "  a  niiihtinare  to  those  wlio  lunl  to  nego- 
tiate between  it  and  ^Ir.  ClilTord. 

lie  had  "looked  at "  a  couple  of  quails  at  dinner, 
and  dismissed  them  from  his  presence  as  if  theyweruas 
obnoxious  to  his  olfactory  organs  and  sight  as  though 
tliey  had  been  carrion  crows  or  vultures,  lie  had  turned 
with  disgust  from  the  lightest  of  custards,  he  had  de- 
clared a  well-prepared  cup  of  Bovril  to  bo  nothing  bet- 
ter than  boiled-down  horse's  hoof,  and  now  at  nine 
o'clock  he  was  hungry  and  wanted  some  mince  made. 
The  landlady  was  obliging,  and  went  out  to  get  the 
meat  wherewith  to  make  it,  and  ^Irs.  Clifford  was  busy 
arranging  the  little  paraphernalia  of  sance2)an  and  hot- 
water  dish  and  plate,  when  the  visitors,  who  were  fur- 
thest from  her  thoughts  at  the  moment,  sent  up  their 
names  and  asked  to  be  admitted. 

A  gleam,  half  of  pleasure,  half  of  carefully-cultivated 
jealousy,  shot  across  Mr.  Clifford's  face  as  I^ord  St. 
Errol's  name  was  announced,  but,  as  he  reminded  him- 
self, though  the  brief  encounter  he  had  once  had  with 
St.  Errol  was  an  evil  one,  "out  of  evil  might  como 
good."  Accordingly,  he  received  both  visitors  with 
civility,  and  Miss  St.  Errol  with  the  appearance  of  real 
pleasure. 

Without  much  preface  St.  Errol  introduced  the  sub- 
ject that  was  the  cause  of  their  unceremonious  visit, 
namely,  Mrs.  Ogilvie's  serious  illness,  and  her  inability 
to  receive  Stella  into  her  house  or  to  take  charge  of  her. 
lie  left  Stella  to  tell  her  own  story  to  ^Irs.  ClilTord, 
knowing  quite  well  that  the  girl  would  conceal  nothing, 
and  that  she  would  receive  the  sympathy  which  is  so 
sweet  to  the  sore-hearted. 

When    .^^^s.  Clifford    look   Stella  into  another  room, 


222  Comrades  True. 

Lord  St.  Errol  proceeded  to  business  with  the  man 
to  whom  he  felt  iustinctively  mouey  was  a  dire  ne- 
cessity. 

''Mrs.  Clifford  and  you  will  be  conferring  a  real  boon 
on  my  ward  and  myself  if  you  can  let  her  make  her 
home  with  you  for  a  time/'  he  began,  and  Mr.  Clifford 
interrupted  him  to  say  grimly  : 

"This  is  not  much  of  a  house  for  a  fastidiously- 
brought-up  young  lady  !  " 

Then  the  Eose-in-Vale  scheme  was  propounded,  and 
Mr.  Clifford  deigned  to  find  it  a  good  one. 

"  I  propose,"  Lord  St.  Errol  went  on,  "to  offer  any- 
one who  is  good  enough  to  take  charge  of  my  ward  re- 
muneration at  the  rate  of  five  hundred  a  year." 

Mr.  Clifford  was  secretly  delighted,  but  took  care  not 
to  express  what  he  felt. 

"  And  free  quarters  at  Eose-in-Vale?"  he  inquired. 

"  Certainly  ;  and  I  am  sure  Miss  St.  Errol  will  do  all 
in  her  power  to  make  your  time  pass  pleasantly." 

"  I  am  sure  of  that ;  at  the  same  time,  it's  a  bit  of  a 
sacrifice  for  a  man  like  myself  to  leave  London  and  its 
clubs.  However,  as  you  seem  to  be  rather  in  a  cleft 
stick  about  the  young  lady  just  at  present,  and  she  and 
my  Avife  are  very  fond  of  each  other,  I  shall  certainly 
raise  no  objection." 

He  felt  quite  magnanimous  as  he  said  this,  and 
determined  that  they  should  appreciate  the  sacrifice  he 
was  making  for  them,  and  reward  him  for  it. 

The  end  of  it  was  that  everything  was  arranged  to 
every  one's  satisfaction.  Stella  remained  with  the  Clif- 
fords that  night,  and  the  next  day  they  all  went  down 
to  Eose-in-Vale,  which  bit  of  fairyland  "  reminded  Mr. 
Clifford  of  a  place  his  father  had  once  in  Ireland,  which 


Lord  St.  Errol's  Gift.  223 

with  other  relics  of  the  departed  Cliffords'  greatness, 
had  been  bronght  to  the  hammer." 

The  two  girls — Mrs.  Clifford  was  only  nine  years  older 
than  Stella,  and  her  heart  was  even  younger  than  her 
years,  in  spite  of  all  she  had  suffered — were  very  hajipy 
in  a  way,  at  Rose-in- Vale.  The  place  was  so  beautiful 
in  itself,  that  if  natural  beauties  could  set  a  sore  and 
aching  heart  at  rest,  it  would  have  worked  the  cure. 
But  though  she  loved  the  place  better  than  ever  now 
that  it  was  her  very  own,  she  could  not  forget  that  a 
man  had  thoughtlessly  and  heartlessly  put  upon  her  the 
very  greatest  slight  that  man  can  offer  to  woman.  lie 
had  openly  sought  and  won  her,  and  now  he  had  openly 
preferred  another  woman  to  herself  and  left  her  !  At 
times  she  could  make  great  and  generous  allowances  for 
him  ;  indeed,  she  nearly  invariably  did  this,  lie  had 
been  placed  in  a  cruel  predicament  by  the  dying  words 
of  Colonel  Devoran,  and  the  girl,  like  a  spoilt  child, 
had  looked  upon  him  as  a  new  toy  given  to  her  for  her 
comfort. 

"  I  hope  she  is  as  clever  as  he  told  his  aunt  she  is  ; 
if  not,  her  temper  will  get  loose  and  try  him  awfully. 
I  won't  think  about  them  anymore,"  she  would  resolve, 
and  then  she  would  think  about  them,  of  what  they 
were  to  each  other,  and  of  how  utterly  a])art  she  was 
from  them,  until  not  even  lovely  Kose-in-\'ale  seemed 
good  in  her  eyes. 

Mrs.  Bentick  wrote  to  her  often — wrote  letters  of 
such  motherly  affection  and  kindness  as  made  poor 
Stella  feel  still  more  deeply  how  much  she  had  been 
wronged  in  having  becTi  separated  from  such  a  friend. 
In  these  letters  Mrs.  Bentick  made  very  rare  mention 
of  her  nephew,  and  none  at  all  of  her  guest.  Miss  Dev- 


2  24  Comrades  True. 

orau,  so  Stella  was  left  to   conjecture  what  she  pleased 
about  these  two. 

They  had  been  at  Eose-m-Vale  about  a  fortnight  be- 
fore Lord  St.  Errol  ventured  to  volunteer  a  visit.  He 
was  afraid  that  both  his  absence  and  his  presence  might 
be  misconstrued  by  Mr.  Clifford,  but  finally  he  decided 
that  it  was  his  duty  to  go  and  see  his  ward. 

He  had  in  the  meantime  written  to  Captain  Bentick. 
It  was  a  calm  and  dispassionate  letter,  and  it  made  the 
recipient  wish  that  he  had  never  been  born  rather  than 
to  have  received  such  a  letter  from  a  man  whom  he 
liked  and  respected.  He  brooded  over  that  letter,  and 
pictured  the  contempt  in  which  he  was  held  by  the 
writer  and  his  friends.  His  trouble  and  remorse  re- 
tarded his  recovery,  and  he  had  a  serious  relapse.  This 
tried  Kathleen  sadly,  not  so  much  on  his  account  as 
her  own.  The  sight  of  wounds — indeed,  of  any  kind  of 
suffering— was  repugnant  to  her. 

''Will  he  always  be  like  this  ?  "  she  asked  his  aunt, 
in  the  high-tempered  way  she  had  when  annoyed. 

"  That  is  as  God  pleases.  All  we  can  do  is  to  pray 
for  him  and  nurse  him,  and  be  tender  to  him,"  Mrs. 
Bentick  said  solemnly  ;  and  then  Kathleen  cried  pas- 
sionately, and  said  she  "  knew  all  that,  and  it  was  very 
hard  on  her  that  no  one  understood  her  or  cared  for  her 
in  this  cold,  heartless  England." 

She  was  a  little  bit  difficult  to  deal  with.  If  she  was 
not  urgently  pressed  to  visit  her  sick  lover  she  was  jeal- 
ous and  offended,  and  if  she  was  urgently  pressed  to  do 
so  it  brought  on  such  an  acute  attack  of  sensitiveness 
at  the  sight  of  suffering  that  they  sometimes  feared  that 
either  her  physical  strength  or  her  brain  would  give 
way. 


Lord  St.  Errol's  Gift.  225 

All  this  was  very  trying  to  the  loving  old  couple  on 
whom  she  had  been  foisted,  and  tliey  were  constantly 
wisliing  that  tliey  had  their  dear  Stella  back  witli  thcni 
as  their  adopted  daughter  and  future  niece. 

It  had  been  found,  on  examination  of  Colonel  Devo- 
ran's  papers,  tliat  his  daughter  was  left  comfortably 
off,  but  not  rich,  and  that  a  certain  Mr.  Tooney,  a 
Dublin  lawyer,  was  deputed  to  look  after  her  money. 
He  wrote  kind,  frank-hearted  letters,  regretting  that 
his  business  would  not  allow  him  to  run  over  as  an  old 
friend  of  her  father's  to  see  her,  and  adding  that  if  she 
would  like  to  have  a  j^eep  at  ''  Dublin's  fair  city,"  where 
she  was  born,  ^frs.  Tooney,  sundry  young  Tooneys,  and 
himself  would  give  her  a  real  Irish  welcome. 

The  idea  appealed  to  her  strongly.  It  was  put  before 
her  so  unexpectedly.  She  had  not  been  in  Ireland 
since  she  was  a  tiny  child.  Besides,  Dublin  was  her 
birthplace,  and  one  ought  to  see  one's  birthplace  if  pos- 
sible. Tooney  was  such  a  funny  name,  too,  and  she 
knew  they  must  be  funny  people,  and  she  liked  funny 
people  I  But  she  wouldn't  leave  darling  Basil  for  tho 
world  if  he  wanted  her. 

"  Darling  Basil  "  was  beginning  to  have  a  vague  and 
unhappy  impression  that  he  miglit  possibly  get  on  with- 
out her  for  three  or  four  weeks.  An  old  and  well-tried 
and  tested  maid  of  Mrs.  Bentick's  was  told  off  to  be  tho 
attendant  and  humble  protector  of  the  young  lady,  who 
could  hardly  conceal  her  impatience  to  tread  her  native 
soil. 

"  I  shall  write  to  you  every  day,  and  send  you  four- 
leaved  shamrocks,  and  tliey   will  make  you  well,  and 
strong,  and  everythijig  else  that  you   wish  to  be,  and 
then  we  shall  be  so  liap})y — shan't  we,  Basil  ?  " 
»5 


226  Comrades  True. 

He  had  not  much  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  the  four- 
leaved  shamrock,  and  not  much  more  in  her  promise  to 
write  every  day.  But  he  tried  to  feel  some  enthusiasm 
about  both,  and  reflected  bitterly  that  nothing  would 
have  drawn  Stella  from  his  side  while  he  was  suffering, 
much  less  while  he  was  in  any  sort  of  danger. 

When  the  day  came  for  Kathleen  to  start,  she  was 
beside  herself  with  excitement.  She  felt  parting  with 
Basil,  whose  weakness  made  all  excitement  undesirable, 
and  made  such  uncalled-for  protestations  of  eternal 
affection  and  fidelity  that  his  faintly-uttered  replies 
sounded  poor  indeed  in  comparison. 

At  last  his  aunt  ventured  to  suggest  to  Kate  : 

*^  As  you  have  determined  to  go,  my  dear,  don't  you 
think  that  the  sooner  you  get  the  parting  with  Basil 
over,  the  better  ?  He  is  really  not  strong  enough  to 
stand  such  a  continued  strain." 

"  Now  you're  unkind,  Mrs.  Bentick.  Because  I  feel 
it  is  my  duty  to  go  to  Ireland  and  see  my  man  of  busi- 
ness, and  my  birthplace,  and  all  that,  you  think  I  don't 
love  my  darling  Basil." 

Mrs.  Bentick  did  not  say  so,  but  she  thought  that 
Miss  Devoran  loved  her  darling  self  rather  better. 

"  You  see,"  Kathleen  went  on  explaining,  "  if  I  were 
useful  in  the  way  of  being  able  to  nurse  my  dear  old 
boy  I  wouldn't  go  away  for  an  hour.  But  as  I  am  a 
hindrance  here,  for  I  take  up  time  that  ought  to  be  de- 
voted to  him,  and  I  can't  bear  the  thought  of  his  being 
neglected  for  me,  I  had  better  go.  Every  minute  I'm 
away  I  shall  be  longing  to  be  back.  Oh,  you  don't  know 
what  Basil  is  to  me  !  " 

"  The  trophy  of  your  bow  and  spear,"  Mrs.  Bentick 
thought,  but  again  she  kept  silence. 


Lord  St.  Errol's  Gift.  227 

Kathleen's  attendant  found  that  young  hidy  very 
tearful  and  depressed  at  intervals  until  they  left  Holy- 
head. Then  she  cleared  up,  and  hy  the  time  they 
readied  Kingston  she  Avas  quite  cheerful  and  full  of 
amusing  conjectures  as  to  what  the  Tooncy  family 
would  be  like.  The  lawyer,  in  his  note  of  invitation, 
had  spoken  of  "  young  people.''  Kate  hoped  "  they 
wouldn't  all  be  girls,"     That,  she  felt,  would  be  dull. 

The  excitement  and  bustle  of  landing  amused  her, 
and  made  her  look  radiantly  pretty,  and  presently  she 
heard  her  name,  and  saw  the  captain  coming  towards 
her,  accompanied  by  a  pleasant-looking  elderly  man, 
who  announced  himself  as  Mr.  Tooney.  In  a  minute 
or  two  they  wore  rolling  along  in  his  neat  little  one-horse 
brougham  to  his  house  in  a  good  square.  Kathleen 
looked  in  vain  for  the  squalor  and  untidiness  which  she 
had  heard  and  read  so  much  about. 

Siie  was  received  in  a  handsome  house,  and  welcomed 
by  a  distinctly  agreeable-looking  family  group,  consist- 
ing of  Mrs.  Tooney  and  two  grown-up  daughters.  The 
former  was  a  fine-looking  matron,  tlie  latter  two  good- 
looking  girls,  who  spoke  quite  as  pure  English  as  she 
did  herself,  aiul  whose  drosses  were  of  quite  as  recent  a 
cut.  Altogellior  her  previous  ideas  \vere  upset,  and  she 
was  discontented.  The  Tooneys  were  not  going  to  be 
at  all  amusing  in  the  way  she  had  anticipated. 

"  Xow  you  see  the  whole  family,  ^liss  Devoran,"  lior 
host  said  when  they  were  seated  at  dinner.  "  1  liojjc 
you'll  find  they'll  look  after  you  well." 

"  Papa,  you  forget  Larry,"  broke  from  one  girl  ;  and 
the  other  put  in,  "The  best  of  the  family's  to  be  seen 
yet,  iliss  Devoran  " 

"Who  is  that?" 


228  Comrades  True. 

"Larry — my  brother  Lawrence.  He  doesn't  live  at 
home,  but  he's  not  far  from  us,  and  we  see  him  nearly 
every  day." 

Kathleen  murmured  something  polite,  and  forgot  all 
about  a  man  with  the  name  of  Larry  Tooney  the  next 
moment. 

She  went  up  to  her  room  early,  and  spent  an  hour  in 
writing  to  her  wounded  betrothed  before  going  to  bed. 
She  felt  that  she  was  doing  rather  a  noble  thing,  for 
the  voyage  had  been  rough,  and  she  was  shaky  and 
sleepy.  She  described  the  Tooney  family,  and  said  she 
was  disappointed  at  finding  they  were  not  a  bit  "  Avilder '' 
than  any  other  2)eople  whom  she  had  met.  She  also 
said  that  her  "  thoughts  were  with  him  constantly,  and 
that  if  he  ever  seemed  to  like  another  girl  she  should 
break  her  heart.  The  next  day  she  was  to  betaken  out 
on  a  jaunting-car,  and  she  sliould  tell  him  every  inci- 
dent of  the  drive." 

Sleep  overcame  her  when  she  had  gone  as  far  as  this, 
and  she  could  only  add  that  she  was  "  his  very  own 
Kathleen." 

The  next  was  a  fine,  clear  mid-winter  day,  and 
Kathleen  almost  regretted  being  bound  to  go  for  the 
drive  in  the  jaunting-car,  the  shopping  in  Grafton 
Street  was  so  intensely  exhilarating.  But  the  Miss 
Tooneys  would  have  no  backing  out  of  the  plan  they 
had  made  for  her  amusement.  "  Larry  was  going  to 
drive  them  in  his  own  car,"  they  said,  "and  when  they 
made  an  appointment  with  Larry  they  never  broke  it ; 
he  wouldn't  be  pleased  if  they  did." 

Kathleen  began  to  regard  the  unknown  Larry  as  a 
disagreeable,  overrated,  tyrannical  young  man — an  only 
son  with   an   idiotically  adoring   mother   and  sisters. 


Lord  St.  Errol's  Gift.  229 

She  felt  that  ho  wouhl  merely  be  a  restraint  on  tlio 
intercourse  that  was  becoming  quite  friendly  between 
herself  and  his  sisters,  and  wished  that  the  Tooneys 
would  let  her  enjoy  herself  in  her  own  way,  namely,  in 
the  tine  shops  full  of  lovely  things. 


CHAPTEE  XXIV. 

STRAINED   RELATIONS. 

There  are  many  more  delightful  sensations  which 
the  human  frame  can  experience  than  those  of  being 
driven  in  an  outside  car  over  unequal  ground  at  a  rapid 
rate  for  the  first  time. 

If  you  are  quite  young  and  extremely  pliable  and 
elastic,  these  sensations  are,  doubtless,  exhilarating  and 
thrilling.  But  if  you  are  no  longer  quite  young  or 
extremely  elastic,  there  are  moments  after  you  have 
deposited  yourself  upon  one  when  you  regret  that  you 
ever  heard  of  the  Green  Isle,  its  jaunting-cars,  and 
those  unprofessed  (but  genuine)  wits,  the  drivers. 

Kathleen  was  very  little  behind  his  sisters  in  paying 
the  homage  of  punctuality  to  Mr.  Larry  Tooney.  He 
had  not  been  a  quarter  of  an  hour  in  the  house  before 
she  came  down  dressed  for  the  drive,  a  little  black  figure 
Avith  nothing  brilliant  or  vivid  about  it  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  sparkling  Spanish  face  and  liquid  Irish  eyes. 
Her  heart  was  not  in  the  contemplated  drive.  It  was 
wandering  still  through  the  lovely  shops  in  Grafton 
Street,  wherein  the  exquisite  beauty  and  artistic  grace 
of  Irish  material  had  been  brought  home  to  her  for  the 
first  time  tluit  morning. 

"  My  son  Lawrence,  Miss  Devoran,"  Mrs.  Tooney 
said  quietly,  as  Kathleen  came  into  the  room ;  and 
230 


strained   Relations.  231 

Kathleen  looked  up  to  see  a  tall,  supple-fignrcd  man, 
with  a  careless  manner  and  bored  faee,  bowing  to  her. 

Tiiere  was  a  good  deal  of  graceful,  negligent  ease 
both  ill  style  and  figure  about  Larry  Tooney.  The 
lifjuid  Dublin  accent  was  hardly  to  be  detected,  but  it 
was  there  in  his  soft  voice.  Distinctly  he  was  a  dis- 
tinguished-looking man.  Hitherto  Kathleen  liad  re- 
fused to  see  anything  distinguished  in  any  num  who 
did  not  look  ''  soldierly.''  There  was  nothing  soldierly 
about  Larry  Tooney's  appearance  ;  nevertheless,  he 
was  a  man  to  be  singled  out  in  a  crowd  and  favorably 
remarked  upon. 

It  was  his  "  form  "  to  appear  quite  indifferent  to,  and 
almost  oblivious  of,  every  woman  he  met  on  his  first 
introduction  to  her  ;  then  to  appear  irresistibly  at- 
tracted— this  if  she  were  attractive  ;  and  finally  to 
seem  to  utterly  succumb  against  his  will. 

These  tactics  had  caused  many  a  woman's  heart  to 
ache  bitterly,  and  many  a  girl  to  feel  she  was  the  spe- 
cial one  he  had  left  behind  him.  But  no  one  seemed  to 
think  that  he  was  to  blame  at  all.  His  father  and 
mother  always  fancied  that  it  was  the  other  side  in  the 
wrong  ;  and  his  sisters  laughed,  and  said,  *'  Oh,  Larry 
is  a  lad." 

He  deferred  to  his  sisters  about  everything.  Where 
they  should  drive,  where  they  should  pull  up  for  tea, 
and  to  what  entertainment  they  should  take  Miss 
Devoran  in  the  evening.  He  was  evidently  the  kindest 
and  most  considerate  brother  that  the  imagination  of  a 
sister  could  desire.  But  as  an  acquaintance  *'  he's  in- 
sufTerable,"  Kathleen  thought  indignantly,  ashestepped 
jwide  to  liglit  his  cigarette,  and  allow  his  father  to  hand 
lier  up  on  to  the  car. 


232  Comrades  True. 

As  far  as  the  scenery  went,  the  drive  was  a  delight- 
ful one.  The  Toouey  girls  knew  the  ropes  well,  and 
Larry  took  every  hint  they  gave  him  as  to  where  to 
slow  down,  and  where  to  pull  up,  and  where,  finally, 
in  an  outskirt  of  Dublin,  to  halt  and  have  tea. 

By  the  time  they  reached  this  spot  Kathleen  Devoran 
was  seething  in  an  undisciplined  temper.  She  had 
been  left  to  hang  on  as  best  she  could  to  the  car,  which 
did  not  jolt — it  was  hung  on  to  far  too  good  springs  to 
misconduct  itself  in  that  way — but  which  swept  round 
corners  in  a  way  that  would  have  left  unwary  ones 
behind.  Mr.  Larry  had  been  so  absorbed  in  his  driving 
and  his  sisters  that  he  had  not  found  time  to  address  a 
single  remark  to  her.  Indeed,  it  seemed  as  if  he  re- 
garded this  drive  as  one  of  duty,  not  of  pleasure,  and 
Kathleen  resented  this  attitude,  and  longed  to  take 
some  revenge. 

The  little  inn  where  they  stopped  for  tea  was  an 
ideal  one.  Everything  in  and  about  it  glistened  with 
cleanliness.  The  glasses  at  the  bar  sparkled  at  them 
as  they  entered,  and  the  little  sitting-room  in  which 
they  had  tea  could  have  defied  that  time-honored  test 
— ''a  cambric  pocket-handkerchief" — to  find  a  particle 
of  dust.  Kathleen's  notions  of  Ireland  and  the  Irish 
were  getting  very  much  upset  and  mixed.  The  Tooneys 
were  not  funny  people  in  an  absurd  way,  and  this  little 
roadside  inn  was  exquisitely  clean. 

She  was  midway  through  a  watercress  sandwich 
when  Larry  turned  from  generalities  and  addressed  her 
directly  for  the  first  time.  That  watercress  sandwich 
will  live  in  her  memory  forever. 

"  Do  you  think    you  will  like  Ireland,  Miss  Dev- 


oran 


•?" 


Strained   Relations.  2;^^^ 

"  Like  it  y  Oh  yes  !  I  love  it  already  ;  not  tliat  it 
matters,  as  I'm  not  going  to  live  here,  you  know." 

"  I  did  not  know." 

Ilis  reply  nettled  her.  To  be  ignored  is  never 
pleasant,  but  t.o  be  ignored  by  a  man  whom  von  liave 
determined  beforeliand  should  be  a  mere  rollicking, 
reckless,  irresponsible  kind  of  person  is,  to  say  the 
least  of  it,  disheartening.  Kathleen  was  disheartened  to 
such  an  extent  that  she  felt  cruel. 

She  rose  slowly,  and  moved,  teacup  in  hand,  towards 
him.     lie  rose  to  meet  her. 

"  Why  won't  you  let  me  take  you  your  tea  ?  " 

"  I'll  not  have  any  more,  thank  you." 

"Oil,  Miss  Devoran,  have  another  cup;  it's  just 
getting  strong  and  good.     Do  now." 

"  Larry,  liow  lazy  you're  getting  !  Didn't  you  sec 
Miss  Devoran 's  cup  was  empty,  and  you  sitting  there 
the  while  ?" 

Both  sisters  spoke  eagerly.  They  were  used  to  Larry 
and  Larry's  ways,  aiul  tliey  feared  that  this  half-English 
girl  might  misuntlerstand  and  undervalue  him. 

Miss  Devoran  was  back  in  her  chair,  beside  herself 
with  rage.  She  longed  to  say  some  biting  words  which 
would  put  this  coolly  insolent  Irish  gentlenuin  into  his 
proper  place.  But  she  could  not  utter  them.  After 
all,  she  had  to  remind  herself,  he  had  done  nothing, 
absolutely  fiothuif/,  but  be  indilTerent  to  her.  And 
what  did  his  indifference  matter  to  her  ?  for  she  was 
engaged  to  marry  Basil  Bentick. 

With  the  thought  of  Basil  came  back  the  thought  of 
his  wounds  and  ailments.  She  shuddered  as  siie  thought 
of  them,  and  pictured  herself  as  the  wife  of  an  invalid 
who  would  require  a  good  deal  of  attention.     In  her 


234  Comrades  True.  ' 

selfish  little  heart  there  reigned  a  supreme  pang  of  pity 
for  herself. 

''Poor  Basil!"  she  thought,  "he  will  be  so  sorry 
for  me  when  I  can't  go  out  for  golf  and  hockey.  It 
will  be  too  bad  if  he  keeps  me  from  going  to  balls. 
I've  been  to  so  few,  and  I  love  them  so." 

"  The  car's  at  the  door,'^  said  the  eldest  Miss  Tooney  ; 
and  at  the  word  Kathleen  got  herself  into  her  furs. 

They  were  not  sable — she  meant  to  have  them  later 
on — but  they  were  nice  dark  furry  furs,  and  the  cape 
was  cut  quite  in  the  right  direction.  In  fitted  tight  to 
the  shoulder,  and  flowed  out  beyond. 

As  he  handed  her  up  on  to  the  car,  Mr.  Larry 
Tooney  broke  his  silence  towards  her.  He  gripped  her 
hand  firmly,  and  murmured  : 

"I've  been  looking  for  you  all  my  life,  and  I  won't 
lose  you  now." 

The  girl  was  astounded,  offended,  horrified,  and — 
pleased.  Poor  little  scrap  of  feminine  humanity  that 
she  was,  the  very  weakest  part  of  her  nature  came  to 
the  fore  at  this  man's  bidding.  She  did  not  know  him. 
She  did  not  love  or  even  like  him.  But  he  dominated 
her,  and  she  was  cowed  by  an  impulse  towards  him 
which  she  herself  did  not  understand. 

During  the  drive  home  he  did  not  address  her  again. 
He  devoted  himself  to  his  sisters  and  his  horse.  He 
drove  beautifully.  He  and  his  horse  might  have  been 
one,  so  truly  did  they  go  together.  Mr.  Larry  Tooney 
had  a  "  hand,"  and  no  mistake,  on  a  horse's  mouth, 
and  not  only  did  he  drive  well,  but  he  looked  well 
while  driving.  Kathleen  hated  herself  for  the  weak- 
ness, but  she  could  not  help  throwing  furtive  glances 
towards  him,  and  admiring  his  back  and  profile,  and 


strained   Relations.  235 

his  kiiul,  conrteoiis,  brotherly  bearing  to  his  sisters. 
After  eacli  one  of  these  glances  she  remindeil  herself  of 
Basil,  and  persnadeil  herself  that  she  was  loving  him 
more  and  more.  Then  the  words  'Mr.  Larry  Tooney 
had  spoken  would  recur  to  her,  and  she  would  blush 
from  brow  to  chin,  and  ask  herself,  '*  What  had  she 
done  that  he  could  have  insulted  her  by  speaking 
them  ?  " 

A  drizzling  rain  was  succeeded  by  a  heavy  down- 
ponr,  and  by  tlie  time  they  reached  home  they  Avero 
all  damp  antl  dispirited.  Kathleen  rushed  up  to  her 
room  at  once,  and  did  not  come  down  until  the  dinncr- 
gong  sounded.  Then  she  found  that  Mr.  Larry  had 
kindly  consented  to  stay  and  dine  at  the  well-pleaded 
request  of  all  his  family. 

"  It  is  so  rarely  that  Larry  can  spare  us  an  evening," 
his  mother  said  to  Kathleen.  "  We  always  look  upon 
it  as  a  gala-niglit  when  he  does  so." 

"How  fond  you  are  of  him  I  "  Kathleen  said  laugli- 
ingly. 

She  was  beginning  to  feel  that  he  was  potent  not 
only  in  his  own  family,  Ijut  in  her  life,  and  sliestruggled 
against  the  feeling,  for  she  remembered  that  she  was 
engaged  to  be  married  to  a  gallant  soldier  who  had 
risked  his  own  life  to  save  her  father's.  Not  that  she 
thouglit  that  a  deed  of  extra  account,  for  she  was  a 
soldier's  daughter,  and  had  Ikt-u  I^ou^^ht  uj)  in  the 
belief  that  courage  was  not  only  the  iiighest  (piality  a 
man  can  possess,  but  also  the  only  one  really  worth 
having.  IIow  often  she  had  heard  her  father  say  of 
gome  man  in  his  company  :  "  lie's  a  spleTidid  fellow, 
full  of  pluck  and  loyalty,  ami  thank  (Jod  there  are 
thousands  like  him  !  "    As  she   recalled   these  wordg 


236  Comrades  True. 

she  became  conscious  that  Mr.  Larry  Tooney  was 
addressing  her. 

"  I  found  a  little  bit  of  luck  for  you  to-day,  Miss 
Devoran." 

"  Why,  Larry,"  one  of  his  sisters  exclaimed,  ''it's  a 
four-leaved  shamrock  !  You  are  a  lucky  girl.  Miss 
Devoran  !     Where  did  you  find  it,  Larry  ?  " 

Larry  smiled  languidly.  He  did  not  care  to  explain 
that  he  had  found  it  in  a  florist's  shop. 

"  Thank  you  so  much — so  very,  very  much  ;  but 
what  shall  I  do  with  it?  "  Kathleen  asked  in  perplexity, 
as  she  touched  the  green  leaf  with  a  light  forefinger. 

"  What  will  you  do  with  it !  AVhy,  put  it  in  a  locket, 
of  course,  and  it  will  bring  you  good  luck  all  your  life," 
the  eldest  Miss  Tooney  explained,  while  the  younger 
one  added  : 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  about  the  luck  since  Dan  Coglilan 
gave  me  one  when  we  got  engaged,  and  paj^a  broke  it 
off  the  next  day — you  remember,  papa  ?" 

Papa  remembered,  and  they  all  laughed  as  if  a  broken 
engagement  were  rather  a  good  joke. 

"  What  are  we  all  going  to  do  this  evening  ?"  Mr. 
Tooney  asked,  when  the  mirth  excited  by  the  mention 
of  the  ruptured  betrothal  had  subsided. 

"  Shall  we  have  a  sing-song,  mother  ?"  Larry  asked, 
and  when  she  gladly  acquiesced,  as  she  invariably  did 
in  any  proposal  that  kept  him  at  home  near  her,  he 
Avent  on  to  tell  Kathleen  that  she  should  have  a  real 
good  dose  of  Irish  melody. 

' '  My  mother  sings  everything  Tom  Moore  ever  wrote 
— don't  you,  mum  dear  ?  Not  to  the  harp — don't  be 
afraid — not  to  the  harp.  We  have  always  barred  the 
harp — haven't  we,  mother  ?"  . 


strained  Relations.  237 

Mrs.  Tooney  laughed. 

''  Larry  speaks  as  if  the  harp  liad  been  wrested  from 
ine  witli  viokMice,  wliereas  I  never  was  the  proud  pos- 
sessor of  one." 

'*'  What's  a  harp  like  ? ''  Kathleen  asked.  "  I've 
never  seen  one,  but  I  have  heard  that  it  is  (juite  as  ex- 
pensive to  keep  as  a  liorse.  How  did  tlie  poor  bards 
manage  wlien  tliey  had  to  carry  one  about  ?  " 

"  Tom  Moore's  was  quite  a  small  one — a  little  golden 
beauty  that  stood  upon  a  table  when  he  twanged  it," 
Miss  Tooney  said  ;  and  then  she  nerved  herself  to  add 
what  she  had  been  longing  to  say  ever  since  the  subject 
was  opened  :  "  Larry  has  written  some  lines  about  our 
Irish  harp.  Come  into  the  drawing-room,  and  I'll  re- 
cite them." 

"And  while  she  is  committing  murder  I'll  go  in  with 
you  and  have  a  cigarette,  father,"  Larry  said. 

But  his  sister  waited  until  the  cigarette  was  smoked 
and  Larry  had  rejoined  theni  before  she  adventured 
upon  that  slippery  and  treacherous  ground  called  reci- 
tation. 

If  there  is  one  more  thankless  task  than  another  to 
be  performed  in  the  field  of  entertaining,  it  is  reciting. 
The  very  appearance  of  an  audience  expectant  of  a  reci- 
tation is  enough  to  weaken  and  demoralize  the  stoutest- 
hearted.  To  stand  upon  a  platform  and  declaim  in  cold 
blood  is  bad  enough,  but  when  it  comes  to  standing 
upon  your  own  heartbrug  and  doclainiing  to  a  select 
circle  of  your  family  and  friends — well,  madness  lies 
that  way. 

However,  Miss  Tooney  went  for  her  sisterly  work  of 
making  tiie  best  of  Larry's  verses  with  a  courage  that 
was  quite  commendable.     She   stood  avcH  out  in    the 


238  Comrades  True. 

middle  of  the  room  with  a  nicely-arranged  light  playing 
upon  her,  and  while  every  one  else  looked  more  or  less 
uneasy,  she  pulled  herself  together  and  gave  them  the 
benefit  of  Larry's  muse. 

''It's  called  '  Ireland's  Harp/"  she  said,  by  way  of 
preface,  and  then  she  rushed  at  her  lines  and  said  them  : 

I. 

"  Dumb  for  a  time,  but  the  golden  harp 

"Will  awake  when  a  bolder  hand 
Once  again  strikes  the  chord  for  the  Emerald  Isle 

In  the  tones  of  our  own  fair  land. 
Once  again  shall  the  leaf  be  the  theme  of  a  song 

As  wild  and  as  bold  in  its  measure 
As  of  old  when  Ireland's  sweetest  bard 

Sang  of  Ireland's  fairest  treasure. 

II. 

"  Dumb,  but  not  dead.     There's  a  life  in  that  harp, 

A  life  that  can  never  grow  cold  ; 
For  to  honor  and  valor,  for  love  and  for  wit, 

Alone  wake  those  harp's  strings  bold. 
They  respond  not  to  meanness  ;  the  harp  of  the  free 

Sounds  only  when  glorious  the  measure. 
As  was  that  when  old  Ireland's  sweetest  bard 

Sang  of  Ireland's  fairest  treasure." 

As  Miss  Tooney  finished  her  performance  the  family 
looked  inquiringly  at  Kathleen,  and  Kathleen  regarded 
them  with  anxious  embarrassment.  She  did  not  like 
to  say  they  ''  were  pretty  verses,"  because  she  under- 
stood that  it  would  be  damning  them  with  faint  praise 
to  use  such  an  expression,  and  it  was  evident  to  her 
that  none  of  Mr,  Larry  Tooney 's  family  would  like  to 
hear  him  faintly  praised.  Nor  did  she  like  to  betray 
her  ignorance  of  the  national  life  and  literature  by  ask- 


strained   Relations.  239 

ing  who  Ireland's  sweetest  bard  was.  "While  she  sat  iu 
a  state  of  nervous  embarrassment,  Mr.  Larry  laughed 
at  his  sister  for  the  dramatic  ellort  she  had  made  to 
vitalize  his  lines. 

**  You're  a  very  good  girl,  Doreeu,''  he  said,  with 
good-humored  patronage  ;  '*  but  you  should  be  content 
to  look  well  and  keep  your  mouth  shut." 

This  speech  roused  Kathleen's  generosity  and  let 
loose  her  tongue. 

"  How  can  you  say  that  when  your  sister  only  did  it 
to  amuse  me  I  "  she  began  indignantly  ;  but  her  indig- 
nation could  not  live  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  calm, 
languid  superiority  he  assumed,  and  she  became  a  shy, 
nervous  girl,  not  a  fiery  little  partisan,  at  once  when  lie 
said  : 

"  I  can  assure  you  the  verses  were  not  intended  to  be 
comic.  Miss  Devoran.  Doreen  has  quite  failed  to  con- 
vey their  meaning  to  you  if  they  amused  instead  of 
touching  you." 

Kathleen's  face  smarted  with  mortification  ;  the  sting 
brought  the  tears  into  her  eyes,  but  slie  would  not  let 
them  fall.  "While  she  struggled  with  the  mixed  feeling, 
Mr.  f^arry  turned  away  and  talked  to  his  mother. 

The  day  had  been  so  fully  occupied  that  Kathleen 
had  not  found  time  to  write  a  line  to  ]iasil,  and  when 
she  went  up  to  bed  she  was  too  tired  to  do  so. 

"  I'll  get  up  early  to-morrow  and  write  then  instead," 
she  resolved  ;  but  in  the  morning,  when  she  woke,  she 
was  met  by  a  message  from  Miss  Tuoney  to  the  effect 
that  they  were  going  to  drive  to  a  meet  about  fifteen 
miles  distant,  and  must  bo  ready  to  start  wiliiin  tlio 
hour. 

Again  ^Ir.  Larry  did  them  the  honor  to    drive,  and 


240  Comrades  True. 

this  day  he  did  not  ignore  Kathleen,  but  made  her  the 
chief  object  of  his  attentions  both  during  the  drive  and 
when  they  had  got  to  the  meet.  For  there  his  sisters 
got  off  the  car  and  walked  about  with  the  numerous 
men,  who  were  only  too  glad  to  show  a  good  deal  of  at- 
tention to  old  Tooney's  daughters  and  Larry's  sisters. 
For  Mr.  Tooney  senior  gave  capital  dinners,  and  Larry 
was  City  treasurer,  and  oneway  and  another  had  a  good 
deal  of  influence. 

There  was  no  doubt  about  it.  Larry  Tooney  had  the 
art  of  insidiously  gaining  the  good  graces  and  favor  of 
women.  Up  to  the  present  time  he  had  done  this  and 
remained  scatheless.  In  other  words,  he  had  retreated 
in  good  order  without  let  or  hindrance  to  himself. 

But  this  was  a  state  of  things  that  could  not  possibly 
go  on  forever.  Wary  as  he  was,  heartless  as  he  had 
often  been  called  by  women  whom  he  had  deserted,  and 
men  who  were  disgusted  with  him  for  these  desertions, 
he  was  not  invulnerable.  He  had  intended  to  amuse 
himself  by  wooing  Kate  in  his  own  indolent  fashion,  to 
win  her  and  then  to  step  aside  and  let  her  lawful  lover 
reclaim  her  if  he  could.  But  he  soon  found  the  tables 
turned  upon  him.  Whether  she  was  a  consummate  flirt, 
"whether  she  was  as  artless  as  she  seemed,  whether  she 
was  merely  a  graceful  humbug  inclined  to  pay  him  back 
inhis  own  coin  or  not,  he  could  not  determine.  But 
whatever  she  was,  she  had  managed  to  get  a  grip  on  him 
before  they  separated  that  day  that  he  could  not  shake 
off. 

It  tightened  these  unwelcome  bonds  powerfully  to 
have  his  father  call  him  aside  and  speak  to  him  seri- 
ously when  he  drove  his  sister  and  Miss  Devoran  home. 

"  See  here,  Larry,  my  boy,"  the  elder  Mr.  Tooney  said 


Strained   Relations.  241 

as  lie  followed  his  son  into  the  snioking-room,  "  there 
must  bo  no  nonsense  with  Colonel  Devonm's  daughter. 
She's  engaged  to  as  tine  a  chap  as  there  is  in  the  army, 
and  that's  saying  a  good  deal.  And  she's  your  mother's 
guest,  and  the  long  and  the  short  of  it  is  that  I'll  have 
no  blathering  philandering  liere.  You  must  under- 
stand that,  Larry.  And  if  you  could  just  take  a  holi- 
day and  run  over  to  London  for  a  week  or  so,  don't  you 
think  it  would  be  just  as  well  ?  " 

Larry  laughed. 

*•  You  needn't  send  mc  into  jienal  servitude  this 
time,  sir.     I'm  much  harder  hit  than  the  girl." 

'•  Harder  hit !  How  often  I've  licard  you  use  that 
phrase,  Larry  I  It  would  kill  your  mother  if  you  acted 
a  dishonorable  part  towards  a  girl  she  has  asked  here, 
and  vouched  to  take  care  of.  You  have  a  good  head- 
piece on  you.     Bo  sensible,  and  go  away  for  a  time." 

**  I  have  a  heart  as  well  as  a  head.  I'll  go — after  I 
have  spoken  to  Miss  Devoran." 

"  And  what  will  you  speak  to  her,  Larry  ?  You  can't 
mean " 

"  To  ask  her  to  be  my  wife — that's  what  I  mean  to 
do,  sir.  She  shall  have  the  option  of  taking  me  or 
leaving  me." 

"  And  she  Devoran 's  daughter,  and  an  engaged  girl  !  " 

"  With  no  heart  in  her  engagement.  She  was  grateful 
and  lonely  ;  in  her  gratitude  and  loneliness  she  had 
pledged  herself  before  she  knew  what  she  was  do- 
ing." 

"  How  do  you  come  by  this  knowledge  of  lirr  senti- 
ments ?  " 

**  I  love  her." 

"  You  have  said  that  of  other  girls.     Speak  to  vour 
16 


242  Comrades  True. 

mother  about  it.  Take  advice  before  it's  too  late.  Your 
mother  will  be  your  best  guide.  If  she  asks  you  to  give 
this  up,  you'll  do  it,  my  bo}' — I  know  you  will." 

"  My  mother  will  neither  be  cruel  nor  cowardly,  so, 
as  you  ask  me,  sir,  I  will  promise  to  be  guided  by  her, 
and  to  accept  her  decision,  whatever  it  may  be." 

He  held  his  hand  out  as  he  spoke,  and  his  father  had 
the  firm  feeling  that  his  son  would  act  honorably  at 
whatever  cost  to  himself.  At  the  same  time,  he  felt 
bitterly  angry  with  Kathleen  Devoran.  "■  She  must 
have  made  the  advances,"  he  thought,  and  it  was  with 
much  trouble  that  he  schooled  himself  into  meeting  her 
with  cold  civility  at  dinner.  Devoran's  daughter  to  have 
brought  such  a  trouble  upon  him  !  Devoran,  who  had 
been  his  school-chum,  and  for  whom  he  had  cherished 
a  lifelong  friendship  !  The  relations  at  the  Tooney 
dinner-table  that  night  were  very  much  strained.  In 
fact,  Kathleen  Devoran  was  the  only  unembarrassed  one 
at  the  table. 

After  his  interview  with  his  son,  Mr.  Tooney  had 
said  to  his  wife  : 

"  You  must  speak  to  Larry  about  that  girl.  I  have 
told  him  you  will  do  so.     You  had  better  tell  him " 

She  held  her  hands  up  deprecatingly,  and  tried  to 
speak  cheerfully. 

"If  you  tell  me  what  to  say,  had  you  not  better  say  it 
to  him  yourself  ?  Ordered  words  are  never  pleasant, 
either  to  speak  or  to  hear." 

"  He  may  listen  to  you." 

"  He  will  listen  to  me,"  she  said  proudly  ;  and  at 
this  Mr.  Tooney  took  refuge  in  the  utterance  of  the 
hackneyed  phrase  : 

"  Do  as  you  like,  do  as  you  like  !     And  be  sorry  for 


StraiiKtl   Relations.  243 

it  when  your  son  has  made  a  mess  of  his  life  and  got 
himself  into  a  stew  with  the  girl's  friends." 

"  If  I  did  as  I  liked,  I  should  wait  for  Larry  to  open 
the  subject  to  me,"  Mrs.   Tooiiey  said  briglitly. 

"That's  cowardice.  It's  your  plain  duty,  as  his 
mother,  to  stop  him  from  making  an  ass  of  himself. 
That's  my  point  of  view." 

*'  And  my  point  of  view  is  this  :  that,  as  his  mother, 
it  is  my  plain  duty  not  to  give  him  a  minute's  unneces- 
sary pain." 

"  Slic's  not  the  daughter-in-law  I  would  have  chosen." 

**  Your  mother  made  the  same  remark  alwnt  me  when 
vou  married  me.  But  I  have  not  turned  out  a  dead  fail- 
ure as  a  wife,  have  I  ?  " 

"Oh,  do  as  you  like,  you're  sure  to  do  right  ;  and  if 
you  do  pay  anything  to  Larry,  make  him  understand 
that  I  have  no  unkind  feeling  about  the  matter.  I'm 
only  anxious  for  his  happiness." 

"  I'll  wait  events,"  Mrs.  Tooney  thought  as,  she  left 
the  dining-room,  and  gave  Larry's  hand  a  passing  clasp 
at  the  door.  Then  she  made  her  way  to  her  own  little 
room,  which  was  half  dressing-room  and  half  boudoir, 
and  which  was  wliolly  her  own — a  room  in  which  she 
could  seclude  lierself  when  the  family  life  and  noise 
overcame  hor  and  worried  her  nerves,  but  at  the  same 
time  a  room  in  which  her  children  had  always  been  sure 
of  a  warm  welcome  from  their  babyhood  up  to  the  pres- 
ent time.  She  stirred  the  fire  to  a  cheerful  bhize,  and 
presently  there  came,  as  she  expected,  a  knock  at  the 
door. 

"  Come  in,  dear  Lany,"  she  said,  and  the  door  was 
opened,  but  it  was  not  Larry  who  came  in. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

''it's    not    too    late." 

The  country  was  beside  itself  with  wo  for  those  who 
were  killed  and  anxiety  about  those  who  were  "  wounded 
and  missing. "  The  Government  was  playing  a  splendidly 
dignified  and  patriotic  game — a  proud,  calm,  a  perse- 
vering game. 

All  mere  private  troubles  and  worries  about  everyday 
life  and  routine  were  effaced  and  ignored  by  this  great 
national  anxiety  as  to  the  issue  of  the  war  in  South 
Africa.  Men  and  women,  and  children,  too,  of  the 
best  and  loyal  type,  thought  of  nothing,  talked  of 
nothing,  were  interested  in  nothing  else.  Young  men 
by  the  thousands  of  every  class  were  leaving  their  new- 
made  brides,  their  first-born  children,  their  old  parents 
tottering  towards  their  graves,  in  order  to  go  out  and 
fight  for  Queen,  country,  and  the  right. 

It  might  have  been  due  to  the  intolerable,  impatient 
anxiety  he  was  feeling  to  get  sound  again  soon,  and  go 
back  to  the  front,  that  Basil  Bentick  pondered  very 
little  on  Kathleen's  long  silences  and  short  letters.  She 
had  taken  his  sympathies  and  the  susceptible,  protect- 
ing impulses,  by  which  every  true  man  is  thrilled,  by 
storm  when  she  was  cast  upon  his  care.  But  her  self- 
ishness and  spasmodic  bursts  of  excitable  temper  had  tried 
244 


•'It's  Not  too  Late."  245 

him  much.  His  thoughts  reverted  cotitiiiually  to  Stella 
now — to  lior  brave,  generous,  tender  treutinout  of  the 
situation  in  wliich  his  weakness,  va(3illation,  call  it  what 
you  will,  had  jdaced  her  and  his  uncle  and  aunt. 

This  being  his  state  of  mind,  his  spirits  rose  with  a 
bound  when  lie  received  a  letter  from  Katiileen  contain- 
ing these  few  words  : 

"  Forget  me  and  forgive  me.  I  am  going  to  marry 
another  man. 

''Kathleen  Devorax." 

He  read  these  words  over  three  or  four  times,  fear- 
ing it  might  be  a  nightmare  or  the  beginning  of  mad- 
ness. Then  lie  sent  for  his  aunt,  asked  her  to  put  her 
hand  on  his  forehead,  and  s;ud,  as  he  gave  her  the  let- 
ter : 

"  Is  that  all  right  and  clear,  or  am  I  wandering  a 
bit  ?  " 

"  It's  clear  and  decisive,  dear  Basil.  She  is  straight- 
forward." 

"  Thank  you,  aunt.  Some  people  would  ha^■e  told 
me  it  served  me  right,  and  blamed  the  girl.  I  couldn't 
have  stood  that.  As  it  is,  I  can  say,  God  bless  dear 
little  Kathleen,  and  may  the  chap  she's  going  to  marry 
make  her  a  good  husband  !" 

"Amen  to  that  prayer,  Basil,"  Mrs.  Bentick  answered 
heartily  ;  and  then  she  spoke  of  other  things — of  the 
war,  and  the  property,  of  the  horses  and  dogs  in  which 
he  had  always  taken  so  keen  an  interest.  But  a  delicate 
instinct  made  her  avoid  all  mention  of  Stella  St.  Errol. 

After  this  he  grew  better  raj)idly.  He  was  no  longer 
torn  by  conflicting  sentiments  of  duty,  honor,  and  love. 


246  Comrades  True. 

The  feeling  he  retained  for  Kathleen  Devoran  was 
of  the  kindest,  friendliest  description — nothing  more. 
She  and  circumstances  had  cast  a  glamour  over  him. 
That  was  dispelled  now,  and  he  saw  her  as  she  was — a 
dear  little  impressionable  girl,  who  would  probably  in 
good  hands  develop  into  a  splendid  woman.  But  he  felt 
that  his  were  not  the  hands  to  mold  her,  and  he 
rather  wished  to  see  "  what  the  fellow  was  like"  who 
had  taken  her  from  him. 


St.  Errol  timed  his  visit  to  his  ward  at  Eose-in-Vale 
most  opportunely  as  it  happened.  The  day  he  came 
there  she  had  received  a  reply  from  Stanley  in  answer 
to  her  letter  of  congratulation  on  his  marriage.  In  it 
he  told  her  that  not  only  his  but  Mrs.  Stanley's  health 
had  broken  down,  and  that  they  were  going  to  embark 
the  next  day  for  England. 

When  she  showed  this  letter  to  her  guardian,  he  was 
enthusiastic  at  once  on  the  subject  of  giving  Stanley  a 
right  royal  good  welcome  home.  For  the  time  he  even 
forgot  to  torture  himself  by  thinking  of  Mrs.  Clifford. 

"  Stanley  and  his  wife  must  take  up  their  quarters  for 
a  good  spell  at  Errol  Castle,"  he  said  to  Stella,  and  then 
added  :  "  If  she  turns  out  to  be  the  brick  Stanley's  wife 
ought  to  be,  I'll  get  him  to  be  my  agent.  I'll  build  a 
jolly  house  for  them  in  the  park,  give  them  Jock,  and 
take  out  a  roving  commission  for  myself  for  two  or 
three  years." 

"  And  I'll  get  dear  old  Mr.  Ledger  to  come  and  live 
near  me  ;  and  between  us  Mrs.  Clifford  and  I  will  nurse 
him  and  take  care  of  him." 

Stella  spoke  with  rather  a  choked  utterance.     Her 


•'  It's  Not  too  Late."  247 

heart  seemed  to  have  got  loose  and  risen  to  her  throat. 
The  tears  had  riislied  into  her  eyes,  but  she  made  an 
effort,  and  would  not  suffer  them  to  pass  the  boundary 
of  her  lids. 

"  "What  a  strange  fascination  you  and  he  have  for 
each  other  ! ''  St,  Errol  said  meditatively,  "  I  think," 
he  added  quickly,  '*  that  you  and  he  must  be  connected 
if  not  related," 

The  girl  shook  her  head. 

*'  Don't  raise  ray  hopes  too  high  only  to  see  them 
dashed  to  the  ground,"  she  said  spiritedly  ;  "  to  be  con- 
nected with  such  a  man  would  be  happiness  ;  to  be 
related  to  him  would  be  glory," 

As  she  said  this  she  drew  herself  up  with  a  gesture 
that  reminded  him  of  Dalma,  As  the  impression 
crossed  his  mind  he  thought  :  "  Why  don't  1  love  this 
girl  well  enough  to  ask  her  to  be  my  wife  ?  " 

The  next  moment  another  thought  exorcised  this 
foolish  one.  It  was  this  :  "  She  is  my  ward — a  sacred 
trust  left  to  me  by  the  old  man  who  loved  her  as  well 
as  if  she  had  been  his  own  child.  Besides  " — here  St. 
Errol  put  his  hand  to  his  forehea<l  uneasily — *'  she  re- 
minds me  of  the  only  woman  I  shall  ever  love,  Stella 
'suggests  '  Mrs.  Clifford  to  me  every  time  I  see  her. 
Come  along,  Jock  I  "We'll  give  Stanley  a  ripj)ing  good 
welcome  home,  won't  we  ?  " 

Jock  was  quite  acquiescent.  lie  jumped  up  in  a 
frolicsome  way  for  a  time,  then  settled  down  on  his 
hind-legs  and  offered  his  front-paws  to  his  master  with 
emotional  velocity.  If  the  tenderly-extended  paw  was 
not  taken  at  once,  Jock  became  abject,  and  then  ran 
away  to  the  lake,  where  he  would  try  to  retrieve  swans, 
puuts,  ducks  and  geese,  and   any  other  small  gear  that 


248  Comrades  True. 

might  be  about.  But  this  day  the  paw  was  taken  and 
shaken  so  heartily  that  Jock  left  the  lake  and  all  that 
was  upon  it  to  their  own  devices  and  attached  himself 
to  Stella. 

It  was  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  the 
London  evening  journals  and  letters  arrived  at  Eose-in- 
Vale.  Mr.  Clifford  had  gone  to  a  race  meeting  about 
twenty  miles  distant.  He  had  gone  in  a  buoyant  mood 
in  spite  of  having  been  a  victim  to  the  influenza  fiend 
for  several  days.  He  had  never  been  more  considerate 
to  his  wife  than  he  was  on  this  morning.  He  had  never 
given  more  consideration  to  the  adjustment  of  his 
sporting-looking  suit,  the  arrangement  of  his  tie,  and 
the  polish  on  his  boots. 

''  If  you  like,  you  can  ask  St.  Errol  to  stay  here  to- 
night. The  best  thing  he  can  do  is  to  take  a  fancy  to 
his  pretty  ward  and  marry  her,"  he  said  to  his  wife  as 
he  put  the  finishing  touches  to  his  toilet. 

"The  very  best  thing  for  him,  bat  not  for  her,"  Mrs. 
Clifford  replied  calmly,  but  her  calmness  was  thrown 
away.     He  retorted  : 

''What  do  you  imply?  That  he  is  in  love  with 
another  woman — yourself,  for  instance  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him.  In  spite  of  his  brave  attire,  he 
looked  so  pitiably  weak  and  frail  that  the  words  she  had 
on  her  tongue  died  on  her  lips.  Instead  of  them  she 
said  : 

"  What  I  meant  was  that  dear  Stella's  heart  is  in  the 
keeping  of  another  man.  Lord  St.  Errol,  good,  noble, 
honorable  as  he  is,  will  never  touch  her  heart  in  the 
way  you  mean,  and  she  will  never  marry  unless  she 
loves." 

"  You  mean  that  she  is  hankering  after  that  fellow 


"  It's  Not  too  Late."  249 

Bentick  still  ? ''  he  asked  with  a  laugh  that  goaded  her 
iuto  saying  : 

'*  I  mean  that  I  respect  her  delicacy  and  my  own  too 
much  to  discuss  the  matter  with  you," 

He  went  over  to  her  suddenly,  and  kissed  her. 

*'  Don't  get  on  your  high  horse  to-day  ;  let  us  part 
friends.  I  feel  the  tide  of  my  fortune  has  turned.  I 
shall  make  a  great  coup  to-day." 

She  brightened  up  responsively  directly. 

*'  I  trust  you  will — I  hope  you  will." 

**  You  were  going  to  put  in  a  '  but.' " 

She  smiled. 

"  Yes,  I  was  going  to  say  '  But  I  hope  when  you  have 
made  your  great  success,  when  you  are  satisfied  with 
yourself  on  the  turf,  that  you  will  lead  a  peaceful  life. 
This  excitement  is  demoralizing.'  " 

"  If  you  were  not  such  an  attractive  woman  I  should 
be — well,  rather  inclined  to  tell  you  to  mind  your  own 
business." 

"  Surely  your  business  is  mine.  You  must  remember 
that  we  were  fond  of  each  other  once." 

He  went  ovw  and  kissed  her  again. 

"  Go  and  make  me  a  tuberose  buttonhole,  dear,  and 
I'll  keep  it  till  I  die." 

She  went  and  made  it,  and  tied  it  with  two  or  three 
of  lier  own  hairs. 

"  I've  been  an  awful  fool  ;  I  might  have  gained  your 
love,  whereas  I've  never  got  inore  than  your  liking," 
he  said,  as  he  was  going  out ;  and  something  impelled 
her  to  say  :  "  It's  not  too  late." 


UnAFTER  XXVI. 

"  O  JSr,    STANLEY,    on!" 

The  Stanleys  were  back  in  England.  St.  Errol  met 
them  at  Plymouth,  and  gave  his  old  comrade  all  the 
news  that  he  thought  would  be  of  interest  as  briefly  as 
possible. 

Among  other  items,  the  young  guardian  mentioned 
that  his  charming  ward^s  engagement  to  Captain 
Bentick  was  broken  off. 

"  Suella  ?  That's  the  name  of  the  lady  who  wrote  to 
congratulate  you  when  we  were  married,  isn't  it,  dear  ?" 
Mrs.  Stanley  asked,  with  her  most  insinuating  air  of 
affectionate  confidence  in  her  young  husband. 

"  It  is,"  Stanley  answered  curtly,  and  for  a  moment 
the  mask  fell  from  his  face,  and  the  repugnance  he  felt 
for  her  was  visible. 

"  Really,  I  shouldn't  have  thought,  from  the  style  of 
her  letter,  that  she  was  young  enough  to  be  any  one's 
ward,"  the  lady  went  on,  more  tartly.  "  The  letter  gave 
me  the  impression  that  its  writer  was  quite  a  woman  of 
the  world  with  plenty  of  experience.  It's  quite  inter- 
esting to  hear  that  she  is  young.     Is  she  pretty  ?  " 

"I  think  her  lovely,"  St.  Errol  said  warmly. 

He  felt  antipathetic  to  Mrs.  Stanley  already  as  he 
pictured  what  ^'  might  have  been  "  if  she  had  not  come 
250 


"On,  Stanley,  On!"  251 

across  and  marred  the  plans  ho  hud  made  for  Stella  and 
Stanley. 

"And  do  you  think  her  lovely  too,  dear?''  Mrs. 
Stanley  asked  her  husband  ;  and  there  was  a  degree  of 
iciness  in  her  level,  suave  tones  that  warned  both  men 
tiiat  there  were  breakers  ahead. 

'•  I  have  never  been  in  the  habit  of  expressing  myself 
as  warmly  as  St.  Errol  does.  Miss  St.  Errol  is  very 
good-looking,  but  as  I'm  not  her  guardian  I  am  not 
privileged  to  think  or  say  what  he  does  about  her. 
You're  looking  quite  cold.  Won't  you  have  your  fur 
cloak  ?  " 

lie  undid  a  case  of  wraps  and  other  things  as  he 
spoke,  and  helped  her  into  her  cloak  with  polite  atten- 
tion. Then,  as  she  said  she  "was  only  tired  and 
sleepy,"  he  proposed  to  St.  Errol  that  they  should  move 
on  into  a  smoking-carriage,  which  they  did,  leaving 
Mrs.  Stanley  to  her  own  reflections,  which  were  mainly 
about  this  unknown,  young,  and  lovely  Stella. 

^'Itwas  wrong,  dreadfully  wrong  of  me  to  marry 
him,''  the  poor  woman  thought  mournfully,  but  without 
bitterness,  "lie  so  young  and  good-looking,  and  I  so 
much  older  and  plain.  Poor  fellow  !  poor  fellow  !  If 
I  could  undo  the  foolish  act  I  would,  for  I  saw  it  in 
his  face  when  he  heard  her  name  that  he  loves  her." 

She  cried  a  little  as  these  thoughts  crossed  her  mind. 
Then  she  laughed  hysterically  at  herself  for  being  so 
foolish  jia  to  be  jealous. 

*'  At  my  age  !  It's  too  absurd  !  "  she  told  herself. 
"  Poor  fellow  !  I  ought  to  have  offered  to  be  a  mother 
to  him  when  he  asked  mo  to  marry  him.      Ah,  m'cII  !  " 

Conflicting  emotions  coming  on  the  top  of  entcrio 
fever  and  a  long  sea-voyage  are  very  exhausting.     Hy 


252  Comrades  True. 

the  time  they  reached  London  Mrs.  Stanle}^  was  seriously 
ill_so  ill  that  she  could  not  carry  out  the  intention  she 
had  formed  of  going  away  to  her  own  friends,  and 
leaving  her  husband  free  to  enjoy  the  society  of  his 
own  class. 

"  Poor  fellow  !  it's  the  least  I  can  do  to  relieve  him 
of  my  presence.  He  must  be  ashamed  of  me.  I  saw 
Lord  St.  Errol's  expression  when  he  saw  me  first.  lie 
looked  shocked.  Oh,  why  did  I  wrong  a  man  I  loved 
so  much  by  marrying  him  ?  " 

The  preceding  is  a  sample  of  the  vain  regrets  that 
crossed  her  mind  continually.  But  in  spite  of  the 
anguish  of  remorse  which  she  suffered  for  having 
"broken  his  life,"  as  she  termed  it,  she  was  outwardly 
a  cheerful  invalid.  Her  gratitude  for  the  smallest  at- 
tention from  her  husband  was  so  touching  that  he  felt 
as  if  he  could  not  do  enough  to  repay  it.  But,  through 
it  all  he  knew  with  bitter  consciousness  that  he  never 
could  give  her  the  one  thing  needful.  He  could  not 
feel  a  spark  of  love  for  her.  She  was  right.  She  was 
too  elderly  and  plain. 

The  description  St.  Errol  gave  of  the  ill-matched  pair 
appealed  so  strongly  to  Stella's  sympathies  that  she 
proposed  one  day  that  she  and  Mrs.  Clifford  should  go 
up  to  town  and  see  if  they  could  be  of  any  service  to 
the  poor  lady,  who  was  lying  ill  at  an  hotel  without  any 
of  her  own  people  about  her.  But  on  the  day  she  pro- 
posed it  Mr.  Clifford  went  out,  as  has  been  told,  to 
some  local  races,  at  which  he  had  a  serious  reverse  of 
luck.  The  shock  was  so  great  that  he  had  an  attack  of 
heart  disease,  and  was  taken  home  dead. 

This  tragic  incident  altered  the  jilans  of  many 
members  of  the  little  coterie  with  which  we  arc  dealing. 


•'  On,  Stanley,  On  !  "  253 

JStclla  devoted  herself  entirely  to  Mrs.  Clifford,  whose 
nerves  were  a  good  deal  shaken  by  the  sudden  death  of 
the  man  who  had  been  desperately  trying  to  her  while 
he  lived.  The  ^Stanleys  seemed  to  recede  from  Stella's 
thoughts  and  sympathies,  and  the  memory  of  the  old 
naval  man  who  had  impressed  her  came  back  vividly. 
So  eventually,  after  a  very  short  debate,  it  was  settled 
that  Mrs.  Clifford  and  Stella  should  go  down  to  Errol 
Castle  with  Mrs.  Ogilvie,  who  was  nearly  well  again, 
and  '"look  after"  Mr.  Ledger  till  such  time  as  his  leg 
permitted  him  to  move  back  with  them  to  Kose-in-Vale. 

'•  The  first  thing  I  shall  do  after  we  have  seen  to  Mr. 
Ledger's  welfare  will  be  to  go  and  call  on  the  Benticks," 
Stella  said,  as  they  were  driving  from  the  station  to 
Errol  Castle. 

"  And  it  will  bo  the  right  thing  to  do,  if  you  are  sure 
there  is  no  sentiment  lurking  behind  the  intention," 
Mrs.  Ogilvie  answered. 

Stella  smiled. 

"  I  mean  to  be  as  unromantically  friendly  with  them 
all,  as  if  I  had  never  been  engaged  to  Captain  Bentick. 
Why  shouldn't  I  be  ?  We  made  a  mistake,  which  he 
has  rectified  in  time." 

**  That's  the  right  way  to  look  at  it — if  you  can,"  said 
Mrs.  Ogilvie. 

"Stella  can  ;  I  answer  for  her,"  Mrs.  Clifford  put  in. 
"  She  has  determined  to  make  the  most  and  the  best  out 
of  her  life,  and  will  never  allow  herself  to  repine  about 
a  lost  love — will  you,  Stella  ?" 

**  I  won't  promise  all  that,  but  I  shall  not  allow  myself 
to  repine  about  having  lost  Captain  Bentick.  You  see," 
she  went  on  to  explain,  "  Basil  and  I  are  very  much  alike 
iu   temperament.     Wo  are    both  very    impulsive.     One 


254  Comrades  True. 

would  never  have  been  able  to  act  as  ballast  to  the 
other." 

"I  think  the  young  lady  to  whom  he  is  engaged  at 
present  must  be  built  on  impulsive  lines  also,"  Mrs. 
Cliiiord  said  ;  and  Stella  laughed  in  a  heart-free  way  as 
she  replied  : 

''Yes;  but  she  has  a  bad  temper,  so  in  order  to 
handle  her  properly  he  will  be  compelled  to  put  the 
curb  on  himself." 

"  We  are  all  getting  so  philosophical  and  reasonable 
that  it's  a  good  thing  that  here  we  are  at  the  door  of 
the  castle.  Oh,  Stella  !  when  I  was  dismissed  in  that 
summary,  not  to  say  crude,  way  I  never  thought  to  see 
you  or  it  again." 

There  was  more  emotion  than  she  wished  to  exhibit 
in  Mrs.  Clifford's  voice  as  she  said  this.  So  Stella  wisely 
turned  her  head  away  as  she  said  : 

"  And  now,  dear,  you  have  come  back  to  be  warmly 
welcomed  by  every  one,  from  the  lord  of  the  castle  down 
to  little  poor  unknown  me." 

It  was  very  rough  weather  in  the  Peak  district  when 
they  arrived  at  Errol  Castle.  Kinder  Scout  looked  like 
an  Alpine  peak  ;  and  the  majority  of  the  roads  were 
impassable.  Under  these  circumstances,  until  the 
sledge  arrived  which  Lord  St.  Errol  wired  to  say  he 
should  send  them  from  town,  Stella  and  her  guests  were 
shut  up  in  the  castle  to  a  certain  extent,  though  at 
times  they  did  get  through  the  snow  to  the  outlying 
hot-houses  and  greenhouses. 

Stella  was  a  good  guide  to  almost  every  nook  and 
corner  of  the  castle,  and  the  confidential  housekeeper  of 
the  late  lord  soon  began  to  have  qualms  as  to  the  integ- 
rity of  the  two  secret  rooms  being  preserved.    Accord- 


"On,  Stanley,  On  !"  255 

ingly  slio    wrote  to  her    master,   giving  liim   a   hint  of 
her  anxieties.     In  the  letter  she  said  : 

"  Miss  St.  Errol  is  here,  there,  and  everywhere,  point- 
ing out  things  to  tlie  other  young  hidy.  There  is 
hardly  a  book  in  the  library  that  they  don't  take  down, 
or  at  least  touch.  If  they  are  snow-bound  much  longer, 
they  may  come  upon  the  spring  that  opens  the  door,  as 
your  lordship  knows.  If  they  do,  I  hope  your  lordship 
will  be  here  at  the  time," 

"  There  can  be  no  possible  harm  in  my  going  down, 
as  Mrs.  Ogilvie  is  with  them,"  St.  Errol  thought;  so 
he  went  to  Stanley  to  talk  the  matter  over  with 
him,  as  was  only  natural,  they  were  such  true  com- 
rades. 

**  You  ouglit  to  go — certainly  you  ought  to  go," 
Stanley  said,  when  St.  Errol  had  put  the  position  of 
affairs  before  him.  ''  I  understand  and  appreciate  the 
delicacy  of  feeling  which  makes  you  hesitate  about 
going  where  Mrs.  ClitTord  is  just  yet  ;  but  the  meeting 
and  the  inevitable  outcome  of  that  meeting  must  como 
about  sooner  or  later." 

St.  Errol  flushed. 

"  I  shall  not  let  her  see  that  she  is  more  to  me  than 
any  other  woman  wlio  may  be  a  guest  in  my  house,"  he 
said. 

"My  dear  fellow,  you  have  already  let  her  see  that 
she  is  more  to  you  than  any  other  woman  in  the  world. 
Don't  overdo  the  thing.  Ileserveand  the  fear  of  climb- 
ing lest  I  miglit  get  a  fall  liave  h).st  me  the  oidy  woman 
I  ever  have  loved  or  ever  shall  love.  I  owe  much  to 
the  poor  patient  woman  I  have  married,  and  I  try  to 
pay  the  debt.     But  I  um  a  nuin  with  a  man's  feelings. 


256  Comrades  True. 

and — well,  I've  made  my  life  a  blauk.  Don't  you  go 
and  do  likewise." 

''How  is  Mrs.  Stanley  to-day?"  St.  Errol  asked, 
after  an  awkward  pause. 

'' As  ill  as  she  can  be  and  live,"  Stanley  said  sadly. 
"  That's  where  the  wretchedness  of  it  all  comes  in. 
She  hasn't  been  happy  since  I  married  her,  and  I  don't 
feel  more  miserable  now  than  I've  felt  all  along.  What 
a  rum  thing  life  is  !  " 

"  It  is,"  St.  Errol  assented.  Then  he  went  on  : 
"  We  were  both  very  ha2)py  in  the  old  poverty-stricken 
days,  were  we  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  they  were  very  good  times  to  look  back  upon, 
but  we  didn't  think  them  so  then.^' 

"  It's  all  in  a  lifetime,"  St.  Errol  said  resignedly. 
He  could  not  forget  that  he  should  see  Mrs.  Clifford 
the  next  day,  and  look  upon  her  with  loving  eyes  with- 
out sin. 

The  two  men  dined  together  that  night.  Stanley 
was  dismally  depressed.  Still  his  appetite  was  as  good 
as  ever.  As  Owen  Meredith  has  remarked  :  "  He  may 
live  without  women,  or  music,  or  books  ;  but  civilized 
man  cannot  live  without  cooks  !" 

In  the  course  of  conversation  after  dinner,  when  they 
were  getting  on  well  with  the  walnuts  and  the  wine, 
Stanley  mooted  a  matter  that  had  been  weighing  on 
his  mind  for  some  hours. 

"  When  you  left  me  this  morning  I  went  up  and  told 
my  wife  that  you  had  been  to  inquire  for  her.  She 
was  awfully  pleased,  and  then — what  do  you  think  she 
asked  ?  " 

"  Can't  imagine." 

"That  Miss  St.  Erro.  will  come  and  see  her." 


"  On,  Stanley,  On  !  "  257 

"  By  Jove  I  but  I'm  snre  Stolhi  will  come.'' 

"You  think  she  will?" 

"  I  am  sure  of  it.  She  proposed  culling  on  Mrs. 
Stanley  the  thiy  poor  Clififord  died,  but  she  hud  to 
postpone  her  visit  in  order  that  she  might  look  after 
Mrs.  Clifford." 

*' She  mustn't  postpone  it  much  longer  if  she  is  to 
see  ray  wife  alive,"  Stanley  said  gravely. 


When  some  one  burst  into  the  room  in  which  Mrs. 
Tooney  sat  waiting  for  her  son,  that  lady  knew  that  the 
**  worst ''  in  the  estimation  of  her  husband  and  herself 
liad  happened.  For  the  some  one  was  Kathleen  Devoran, 
and  they  had  far  more  magnificent  views  for  their  son 
matrimonially  than  would  be  met  by  this  moderately- 
endowed  daughter  of  the  late  Colonel  Devoran. 

The  girl  flung  herself  impetuously  into  Mrs.  Tooney's 
arms,  or,  rather,  upon  that  handsome  matron's  broad 
breast,  for  the  arms  were  not  opened  to  receive  her. 

"  Don't  be  annoyed  with  Larry,  and  do  be  kind  to 
me  !  "  Kathleen  sobbed  out ;  ''he  has  asked  me  marry 
him,  and  I  have  said  I  will." 

At  this  juncture  Mrs.  Tooney  was  a  very  angry 
mother,  but  she  was  at  the  same  time  a  very  kind- 
hearted  woman.  She  took  the  poor  trembling  little 
girl  close  to  her  heart,  and  told  her  not  to  "sorrow 
about  it." 

"I'll  speak  to  my  son,  and  let  him  know  that  he  has 
done  the  wrong  tiling  in  speaking  of  love  and  marriage 
to  an  engaged  girl.  Lift  your  head  up  now,  dear,  and 
I'll  promise  you  I  will  settle  everything  for  you.  You 
shall  go  back  and  be  married  to  Captain  lientick  just 
'7 


258  Comrades  True. 

as  pleasantly  as  if  none  of  this  foolishness  had  hap- 
pened." 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  marry  Captain  Bentick ;  it's 
Larry  that  I  love,"  Kathleen  sobbed  out ;  and  then 
Mrs.  Tooney  had  to  perform  the  hardest  of  all  tasks 
which  a  mother  is  called  upon  to  execute — namely,  to 
throw  cold  water  on  her  son's  love's  young  dream. 

''  And  it's  Larry  Avho  will  never  be  able  to  marry  you," 
Mrs.  Tooney  said  firmly.  ''  He  is  as  good  a  son  as  ever 
lived,  and  I  would  give  him  the  wish  of  his  heart,  if  I 
could,  at  any  hour  of  the  day — if  I  could.  But  I  can't 
give  him  his  wish  now  if  it's  you.  He  can't  marry  on 
his  income  :  he  has  no  money  from  private  resources,  so 
he  will  have  to  marry  some  one  with  more  money  than 
you  have,  my  poor  child  !  Go  back  to  England  and 
marry  your  lawful  lover." 

Kathleen  almost  groaned. 

''I  have  already  written  to  tell  my  Mawful  lover' 
that  I  am  going  to  marry  another  man,"  she  wept  out 
hopelessly,  and  in  her  heart  of  hearts  she  did  not  know 
for  the  loss  of  which  man  she  grieved  most. 

Basil  had  been  gradually  absorbed  into  her  affections. 
Larry  had  taken  her  heart  by  storm.  And  now  Larry's 
mother  was  giving  her  clearly  to  understand  that  she 
would  not  be  warmly  welcomed  into  the  Tooney  family, 
even  though  she  gave  up  the  Bentick  family  for  them. 

There  were  several  bad  quarters  of  hours  in  the 
Tooney  household  the  next  day.  Mr.  Tooney  and  his 
son  had  a  dangerously  dignified  interview,  at  the  end 
of  which  the  father  in  the  elder  man  went  out  to  meet 
and  conciliate  the  son. 

"  You're  a  grown-up  man,  Larry — City  Treasurer, 
and  independent  of  me  altogether  ;  I  know  that,  and  I 


"  On,  Stanley,  On  !  "  259 

have  no  authority  but  that  of  love  over  you.  But  tliiuk 
of  your  mother  aiul  sisters.  I  won't  be  liere  very  long, 
and  when  I'm  gone  who's  to  look  after  them  but  you  ? 
If  you're  burdened  with  a  poor  hel})less,  vain  woman 
like  Kathleen  Devoran,  all  your  time  will  be  taken  up 
iu  looking  after  her,  and  she'll  give  you  the  slip  before 
you  know  what  she's  about.  Let  her  go  back  to  her 
English  friends  and  her  own  lover,  and  you  take  the 
great  heiress  who's  just  waiting  for  you,  and  make  the 
name  of  Tooney  honored  in  the  land." 

**  This  great  heiress  wants  a  title,  sir,"  Larry  an- 
swered, with  that  dulcet  laugh  which  had  done  such 
deadly  damage  to  the  many  ladies  with  whom  his  looks 
and  his  laugh  had  idayed  havoc. 

"  And  it's  the  title  you'll  have  if  you  make  a  dash  for 
it,  Larry.  See  what  you  are  at  your  age,  and  see  what 
I  was  when  my  years  were  no  more  than  yours  are  now  ! 
You've  everything  before  you,  and  you've  nothing 
behind  yon,  as  far  as  I  know." 

Larrv  noddetl  his  head  in  respectful  assent. 

"  Your  mother  has  spoken  to  Miss  Devoran  ;  it  was  a 
most  unpleasant  thing  for  me  to  do  on  account  of  poor 
old  Devoran  and  all  that,  you  know,  that  I  told  your 
mother  she  had  far  better  do  it  for  me.  It's  a  grand 
thing  to  have  a  good  wife,  especially  when  it  comes  to 
having  a  crux  of  any  kind  with  the  children.  Women 
understand  these  things  better  than  we  do.  Think  of 
that,  Larry  I  Think  of  what  pride  your  mother  would 
feel  if  you  went  to  her  and  told  her  you  were  going  to 
give  her  a  daughter-in-law  with  money  enough  to  make 
you  the  first  man  in  Ireland." 

"  My  mother  would  rather  see  me  happy,"  Larry  said 
with  a  merry  laugh. 


CHAPTEE  XXVII. 


DIFFICULT  TASKS. 


It  goes  without  saying  that  as  soon  as  Stella  heard 
that  Mrs.  Stanley  wished  to  see  her  she  desired  to  go. 

"  But  before  I  start  I  must  go  and  see  Mr.  Ledger. 
If  he  hears  that  I  have  been  here  and  gone  away  with- 
out seeing  him,  he  will  be  hurt.  I  know  you'll  come 
with  me,  won't  you  ? ''  she  said  to  Mrs.  Clifford. 

"  Of  course  I  will.  The  interest  you  take  in  him  has 
infected  me.  Besides,  I  have  just  remembered  that  my 
father  had  relations  on  his  mother's  side  called  Ledger." 

*'  What  was  your  father's  name  ?  "  Stella  asked. 

"  Bircham — John  Ledger  Bircham  was  his  name." 

^'  Now  we  will  be  off  to  see  my  Mr.  Ledger.  How 
funny  it  will  be  if  it  turns  out  that  he  is  in  any  way 
related  to  you  ! "  Stella  said  lightly  ;  and  they  started 
for  The  Hulk  on  their  mission  of  merciful  inquiry. 

The  old  naval  man  had  been  shifted  from  his  bed  to 
a  spacious  couch  which  stood  in  a  window-nook,  and 
commanded  a  view  of  the  garden,  also  of  the  boy  who 
cultivated  that  garden  when  his  master's  eye  was  upon 
him. 

On  this  particular  day  the  boy's  conduct  had  been 
peculiarly  reprehensible.  He  was  supposed  to  be  pluut- 
260 


Dilliciilt  Tasks.  261 

ing  celery  in  a  deep  trench,  but  as  he  foinul  it  far 
ejisier  to  dig  a  shallow  one  he  ])hinted  it  in  the  latter. 
Mr.  Ledger's  celery  had  always  been  renowned  for  its 
size,  whiteness,  and  solidity.  This  year  lie  foresaw  that 
his  pride  in  it  and  profit  out  of  it  would  have  a  down- 
fall. 

He  tapped  at  the  window  loudly,  but  the  boy  was  at 
such  a  distance  that  he  safely  assumed  he  need  not 
reply  to  the  taps,  as  he  guessed  master  was  in  a  tan- 
trum. 

Failing  to  beguile  the  boy  to  within  stormy-language 
reach,  Mr.  Ledger  rang  for  his  housekeeper,  and  while 
he  was  interviewing  her  there  came  a  knock  at  the 
front-door,  and  the  interview  came  to  an  abrupt  termina- 
tion, as  the  housekeeper  had  to  hurry  down  to  admit 
the  young  lady  from  the  castle. 

"I've  brought  my  friend  Mrs.  Clifford  with  me," 
Stella  said,  as  she  rushed  into  the  room.  "  I  have  to  go 
up  to  town  for  a  day  or  two,  and  she  will  look  after  you 
while  I'm  away."  Then  she  went  on  to  say  how  and 
under  what  circumstances  she  had  met  and  grown  to  love 
Mrs.  Clifford.  "  We  have  lockets  alike,  too  ;  isn't  that 
funny  ?  In  hers  there's  the  miniature  of  a  lovely 
woman.  She  flatters  me  by  saying  I'm  something  like 
it.     Ilere  is  mine." 

She  unchisped  the  locket,  opened  and  handi-d  it  to 
him,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  the  old  sailor  lost 
control  over  his  emotions.  Breaking  into  a  violent  fit 
of  sobbing,  he  could  not  artit'ulatc  plainly  for  some 
minutes.     When  ho  did  speak,  it  was  to  say  : 

"  Bring  her  to  me — bring  her — you  are  both — my 
daughters." 


262  Comrades  True. 

Clouds  hung  over  the  Tooney  household.  Kathleen 
Devorun  knew  that  she  was  not  a  welcome  guest,  and 
this  knowledge  did  not  tend  to  cool  her  always  hot 
temper.  She  could  not  go  back  to  the  Benticks  after 
the  way  she  had  behaved,  even  if  they  had  expressed  a 
wish  to  see  her  back,  which  they  did  not.  She  could 
not  tell  Larry  that  he  ought  to  marry  her  at  once,  be- 
cause she  was  not  happy  as  a  visitor  in  his  father's 
house  any  longer.  Larry's  father  was  jDolite  to  her,  but 
abstracted.  His  mother  was  kind,  but  sorrowful.  His 
sisters  seemed  to  think  the  whole  affair  a  joke,  and 
tried  to  amuse  her  with  stories  of  the  many  women 
and  girls  with  whom  Larry  had  '' carried  on."  As  for 
Larry  himself,  he  was,  of  course,  just  as  dear  and  de- 
lightful to  her  as  ever.  But  he  did  not  realize  how 
miserable  she  was  in  the  bosom  of  his  family  circle. 
Before  she  had  been  engaged  to  Larry  three  days  she 
repented  of  having  written  that  note  of  farewell  to 
Basil  Bentick. 

'' I  must  give  a  party  in  honor  of  my  bride-elect," 
Larry  told  his  mother  one  day. 

"  Ah,  Larry  !     How  can  you  ?  " 

"  Very  well  indeed.  I'm  very  proud  of  her,  and  you 
and  the  girls  must  do  your  best  to  let  people  see  that 
you're  proud  of  her  too." 

Mrs.  Tooney  looked  sad. 

"  Now,  mother,  none  of  that.  She's  well  born,  she's 
well  bred,  she's  very  pretty.  I'm  a  lucky  man  to  have 
won  her." 

"  It's  she  is  the  lucky  girl  to  have  won  you." 

''  Then  we  are  both  favorites  of  fortune.  Doreen 
must  get  up  a  j^lay,  and  I  will  look  after  the  concert 
part  of  the  affair.     I  shall  ask  Mrs.  Clifford  to  help  me." 


Difficult  Tasks.  263 

"Who  is  Mrs.  Clifford  ?" 

"  In  professional  life  she  is  Dalma.  Slio  has  sung 
in  Dublin — you  must  have  heard  lier. — In  private  life 
she  is  Mrs.  Clifford,  and  one  of  tlio  most  charmitig 
women  in  the  world.     What's  the  matter  ?" 

"Why,  this,  Larry  :  Kathleen  Devoran  has  spoken 
to  me  abont  Stella  St.  Errol,  who  was  engaged  to  Ben- 
tick  before — before  he  unfortunately  became  entangled 
with  Kathleen.  Miss  St.  Errol  and  Dahna  are  great 
friends." 

"She's  a  great  beauty,  she's  a  great  artist,  and  is  as 
good  a  woman  as  ever  stepped.  She  shall  be  M-ell 
boomed  in  Dublin.  That  fellow  St.  Errol  is  after  her, 
bnt  he  is  not  up  to  her  mark — I  know  that." 

Mrs.  Tooney  took  in  the  full  meaning  of  the  words, 
and  all  the  womanhood  in  her  came  to  the  front. 

"  I  do  not  ap})rove  of  your  engagement — you  know 
that,  I^irry — but  yon  shall  not  hurt  Kate  by  display- 
ing devotion  to  any  one  else  while  she  is  under  my  roof." 

"  My  dear  mother,  you  may  safely  allow  me  to  ex- 
hibit any  amount  of  friendship  and  devotion  to  Mrs. 
Clifford.  *  A  perfect  woman,  nobly  planned.'  I  only 
hope  that  when  I  marry  Kathleen  Mrs.  Clifford  will 
be  a  friend  to  my  wife." 

"  And  I  suppose  you'll  be  marrying  now  very  soon, 
Larry  ?  " 

I^arry  looked  out  of  the  window  and  whistled  softly. 

"  You're  not  sorry  for  what  you  have  done,  Larry  ? 
You  don't  regret  that  you  have  won  this  little  orphan's 
heart  and  pledged  yourself  to  be  her  loyal  husband  and 
protector  so  long  as  you  both  do  live  ?  " 

"No,  I  don't  regret  any  of  that  part  of  it.  But  I 
am  in  a  hole  about  money — in  an  awful  hole." 


264  Comrades  True. 

''Debts  ?" 

"Worse  than  debt." 

"My  darling  boy^  your  father  will  meet  anything 
within  reason." 

"  It's  beyond  reason.  I  have  been  betting.  Oh 
yes,  I  know  I've  been  an  ass,  but  most  men  are  asses  in 
their  time,  and  now " 

"What  now?" 

"  I  can't  meet  my  debts  of  honor.  It's  a  case  of 
fleeing  the  country  or  paying  up  to-morrow.  Can  you 
work  the  latter  for  me  with  the  dad  ?  " 

"  Larry,  tell  me  the  worst  at  once,  at  once  now,  my 
boy,  and  I'll  brave  everything  for  you." 

"  I've  used  a  thousand  pounds  of  the  city  funds,  and 
unless  I  can  repay  it  to-morrow  before  anything  is  dis- 
covered I  am  ruined,  dishonored,  disgraced  forever." 

For  a  minute  Mrs.  Tooney  was  steeped  in  such  an 
agony  of  avo  that  she  could  not  speak.  Then  she 
found  herself  able  to  say  : 

"  If  I  die  in  the  doing,  Larry,  I'll  ask  for  it  ;  but 
you  must  please  your  father,  give  up  this  miserable 
engagement  to  Kathleen  Devoran,  and  marry  Miss 
O'Shea." 

"Why?" 

It  was  a  hard  question  to  be  asked  by  a  son.  It  was 
a  harder  one  to  be  answered  by  a  mother. 

"  AVhy  ?  Because  she  can  make  your  path  a  golden 
one,  and  poor  little  Kathleen  will  make  it  rugged  for 
you  and  herself  if  you're  ever  rash  enough  to  marry 
her." 

Larry  only  laughed  in  reply. 

"  Why  do  you  laugh,  Larry  ?  " 

"  Because  there  is  so  much  ado  about  nothing  made 


Difficult  Tasks.  265 

about  me.  Kathleen  loves  wlmte'er  she  looks  on,  and 
her  looks  go  everywhere.  I'm  built  very  much  in  the 
same  way,  I'm  afraid.  She  has  fascinated  me,  and  I 
think  I  love  her  now  ;  but  if  it  will  be  better  for  the 
little  girl  to  go  back  to  peace,  prosperity,  England,  and 
Captain  Bentick,  I  will  not  say  her  nay.  But  she 
must  decide  the  question.  Don't  any  of  yon  be  cool 
or  cross  to  her.  If  you  get  me  tliat  thousand  pounds, 
I'll  marry  her  at  once,  and  then  I  know  yon  will  treat 
her  as  your  daughter.  If  I  can't  get  it  I  shall  have  to 
get  away,  and  she  will  have  to  wait.     Poor  little  girl  !  " 

"Poor  little  girl  indeed  !"  said  his  mother.  "Do 
you  mean  to  say  that  after  all  this  you  are  not  prepared 
to  marry  ^liss  Devoran  unless  your  father  is  prepared 
to  do  what  I  regard  as  impossible  ?" 

Larry  cogitated  for  a  few  moments.  lie  was  not  a 
bad  fellow  ;  there  was  nothing  mean  or  underhand 
about  him.  If  he  had  been  the  happy  possessor  of 
several  thousands  a  years,  he  would  have  gone  as  straight 
as  any  man  in  (Jreat  Britain  or  Ireland.  As  it  was,  he 
felt  that  lie  was  going  to  fail  and  let  himself  down  in 
the  estimation  of  his  family  and  of  the  girl  whose  heart 
he  had  captured. 

"  Let  me  do  Kathleen  all  the  honor  I  can,  mother  ; 
help  me  to  make  her  feel  that  there's  no  greater  lady 
iu  Dublin  than  herself  the  night  I  give  the  jjarty  in 
her  honor.     And  after  that " 

"  What,  Larry  ?  " 

**  Try  and  teach  her  ti)at  she  has  had  a  lucky  escape 
from  me,  unless  my  father  will  come  forward  with  the 
dollars  and  save  my  name  anil  honor." 

"  Both  shall  be  saved,"  his  mother  said  ;  and  tlieii 
Larry  bowed   himself  at   his  mother's   knees,  and  told 


266  Comrades  True. 

her  that  everytliing  should  be  as  she  would  have  it 
with  him. 

"■  Your  father  is  very  much  set  against  this  marriage, 
Larry.     Is  your  heart  entirely  in  it  ?  " 

"It^s  no  use  iDroclaiming  that  my  heart  is  in  it  unless 
I  have  the  money  in  it  too.  I  am  very,  very  much  in 
love,  and  very  much  in  debt.  Now  you  see  how  the 
case  lies.  If  Kathleen  is  wise  she  will  throw  me  over, 
though,  mind  you,  it  will  be  a^bitter  blow  to  me  if  she 
does  it.  If  she  does  I  it  shall  be  able  to  weather  the 
storm  without  irajDoverishing  my  father  and  all  of  you.'' 

"It's  a  dreadful  alternative,  Larry." 

"Yes,  not  a  pleasant  one,  by  any  means.  Alterna- 
tives are  rarely  pleasant.  The  dagger  and  the  cup  of 
cold  poison  are  the  ones  offered  to  the  majority  of 
human  beings  at  some  juncture  in  their  lives.  Will 
you  speak  to  Kathleen  to-night  ?" 

Mrs.  Tooney  put  her  hands  up  to  her  head,  and  held 
it  tightly. 

"I'll  speak  to  your  father  about  the  money  first, 
Larry.  Tlie  matter  about  Miss  Devoran  must  wait  un- 
til I  have  this  heavier  trouble  off  my  mind." 

Larry  laughed  sweetly. 

"  Meantime  I  shall  be  getting  more  and  more  in  love 
with  Kathleen,  and  she  with  me,"  he  said  blithely. 
"  Well,  I  will  have  my  little  gathering  in  her  honor  to 
be  arranged  by  you  and  Doreen.  Short  invitations  are 
best  in  such  cases.  Mrs.  Clifford,  otherwise  Dalma, 
will  arrive  by  to-morrow"s  boat.  My  man  will  do  all 
the  catering  ;  you  needn't  trouble  yourself  about  that. 
But  I  should  like  Kathleen  to  order,  select,  and  arrange 
all  the  flower  part  of  the  affair.  I  want  her  to  be  the 
queen  of  the  night,   however  things  turn  out.     The 


Difficult  Tasks.  267 

tale  of  lier  taste  in  the  matter  of  deconitions  shall  be 
told  all  over  Dublin,  however  things  go." 

"  Why  do  you  harp  on  that  mouldered  string,  Larry  ?  '' 
his  mother  asked  anxiously. 

*'  Because  I  can't  help  feeling  that  it's  just  possible  I 
may  have  spoilt  a  nice  girl's  life  by  letting  her  know  I 
love  her  before  I  am  in  a  position  to  nuirry  lier.  If  I 
were  a  shade  more  reckless  than  I  am,  I  should  run 
away  with  her  at  once.     As  it  is '' 

He  paused,  and  his  mother  asked  tearfully  : 

"  Out  with  it,  Larry  ;  tell  me  the  worst  at  once." 

*'  There's  nothing  much  worse  to  tell  than  I  have 
told  you  already.  If  my  father  can  pull  me  out  of  this 
hole,  I  shall  be  able  to  hold  up  my  head,  and  marry 
Kathleen  honorably,  openly  in  the  face  of  day.  If  ho 
can't  or  won't  do  it,  I  shall  have  to  quit  the  country, 
or  marry  Miss  O'Shea's  money-bags.  Which  would  you 
rather  I  should  do,  mother  ?" 

*•  The  honorable  thing,"  she  replied,  without  a 
moment's  hesitation — ''  neither  quit  the  country  nor 
marry  Miss  O'Shea.  My  son  was  born  to  a  better  fate 
and  a  manlier  work  than  that  of  a  deserter  or  a  money- 
hunter." 

*'  By  Jove  I  you're  right.  I'll  stop  and  face  the  music, 
mother,''  he  said,  going  over  as  he  si)ftke,  and  giving  her 
a  hearty  kiss.  '*  But  it  will  be  a  diilicult  tune  to  dance 
to,  I  think." 

**  I'll  make  the  steps  as  easy  for  you  as  I  can,  Larry. 
Your  father  and  your  sisters  would  make  any  sacrifice 
for  you  ;  and  as  for  myself — well,  I'm  your  uutthei-,  and 
that's  saying  enough.      But  I  wish  this  litlU'  Kathleen 

had  not  come  into  your  life.     As  it  is " 

,     **  As  it  is,  you  must  help  nii-  to  make  her  feel  that  I 


268  Comrades  True. 

shall  never  regret  that  she  has  come  into  my  life, 
mother.  You  must  help  me  to  be  as  true  as  steel  to 
her." 

"  And  that  I'll  do,"  said  Mrs.  Tooney. 
*  *  *  *  *  # 

A  more  radiantly  happy  girl  never  trod  this  earth 
than  Stella  when  she  walked  out  of  The  Hulk  after  the 
explanatory  interview  with  Mr.  Ledger  which  resulted 
in  the  revelation  that  he  was  the  father  of  both  Mrs. 
Clifford  and  herself.  To  have  found  a  father  and  a 
sister  in  one  day  was  such  an  overpowering  joy  to  the 
girl  who  had  yearned  all  her  life  for  a  name  and  people 
of  her  own  that  she  gave  up  her  intended  visit  to  the 
Beuticks,  and  went  up  to  town  by  an  earlier  train  to 
see  Mrs.  Stanley,  and  let  Stanley  know  that  she  was  no 
longer  a  nameless  waif  and  stray.  Mrs.  Ogilvie  went 
with  her,  and  Mrs.  Clifford  remained  with  the  father 
who  had  been  so  strangely  reunited  to  them. 

It  was  a  long  and  intricate  story  that  had  to  be  told. 
Jealousy  and  suspicion  had  wrought  havoc  in  the  lives 
of  the  Ledger  Birchams,  and  anonymous  letter-writing 
friends  had  played  their  cruel  work  only  too  well. 
The  husband  knew  that  the  wife  he  adored  was  the 
star  of  another  man's  life.  For  several  years  he  alter- 
nately neglected  her,  scolded  her,  and  wronged  her  by 
his  injurious  suspicions.  Then,  at  a  critical  period  of 
her  life,  his  fiery  temper  and  ill-balanced  mind  made 
him  absent  himself,  leaving  her  v/ith  a  little  child  of 
nine  and  an  unborn  baby.  When  he  came  back,  wife 
and  children  had  melted  away,  as  it  seemed,  and  his 
frantic  efforts  to  find  them  were  futile.  But  now  ! 
Providence  was  good  to  him.  He  had  his  daughters, 
and  the  daughters  freely  forgave  him  for  the  wrong  he 


Difficult  Tasks.  269 

so  freely  confessed  10  luive  done  to  them  and  to  their 
mother. 

The  ouly  dark  speck  on  the  sun  of  tlieir  happiness 
was  this — not  one  of  them  knew  what  had  become  of 
the  wife  and  mother.  But  the  mystery  of  her  disap- 
pearance or  death  was  sure  to  be  cleared  up  sooner  or 
later,  tliey  felt.  Xow  that  they  were  together  again, 
one  and  all  resolved  to  stand  by  the  others. 

Tlie  morocco  case  had  been  brought  forward,  and  its 
contents  proved  powerful  witnesses  in  establishing  the 
identity  of  the  parents  and  children.  But  only  Mr. 
Ledger  Bircham  knew  why  the  late  Lord  St.  Errol  had 
adopted  the  baby  Stella,  and  treated  her  as  his  own 
child.  The  poor  old  man  felt  that  his  wife  had  been 
worshiped  by  one  who  was  far  too  honorable  to  see 
her  in  the  absence  of  her  deserting  hnsband,  and  this 
knowledge  made  him  feel  sorrowfully  sure  that  his  wife 
had  died  before  Lord  St.  Errol  brought  little  Stella 
back  with  him. 

The  new  duties  that  thus  suddenly  devolved  upon 
her,  the  new  family  ties,  interests,  and  rcsjionsibilities, 
were  so  absorbing  and  sweet  that  Mrs.  Clilford  was 
quite  unable  to  respond  to  Mr.  Larry  Tooney's  urgent 
request  tliat  she  would  draw  all  Dublin  to  her  feet  as 
Dalma,  the  beautiful  queen  of  song.  But  by  the  time 
he  received  her  refusal  he  had  far  more  iinportant 
matters  to  tackle,  and  tlie  party  in  honor  of  Kathleen 
Devoran  was  postponed. 


With  the  reserve  and  delicacy  tliat  always  character- 
ized liim,  Stanley  did  not  make  his  appearance  when 
Mrs.  Ogilvieand  Stella  arrived  to  see  his  wife,  so  Stella 


270  Comrades  True. 

was  unable  to  break  the  information  to  him  that  she 
had  found  a  father  and  a  name  of  her  own.  But  she 
bore  this  trifling  disappointment  bravely,  understanding 
well  why  he  stood  aloof  at  this  juncture. 

Mrs.  Stanley  was  able  to  see  her  and  to  speak  a  few 
words — words  that  convulsed  Stella  with  emotion, 
though  she  put  a  strong  constraint  upon  herself  and 
refrained  from  tears. 

"  I  have  marred  a  young  man's  life  for  a  time,"  she 
said  ;  '^  you  will  try  and  make  him  happy  when  I  am 
gone.  I  read  in  his  face  when  he  got  your  sweet  letter 
that  you  held  his  heart.  I  read  it  again  more  plainly 
when  Lord  St.  Errol  mentioned  your  name  when  he  met 
us  in  Plymouth.  You  mustn't  be  conventional ;  make 
him  ha^ipy  as  soon  as  you  can." 

"  Mr.  Stanley  has  never  said  a  word  of  love  to  me  in 
his  life,  and  I  have  been  engaged  to  and  jilted  by  another 
man — a  man  of  whom  I  was  desperately  fond  at  one 
time.  Then  he  got  equally  fond  of  another  girl,  and 
threw  me  over.  No,  not  that — I  gave  him  up  to  her  ! 
So,  you  see,  I  have  had  my  fair  share  of  romantic  ill- 
luck.  In  future  I  never  mean  to  care  in  tJiat  way  for 
any  one  again.  I  have  a  father  and  a  sister  now.  All 
the  love  I  have  to  give  will  be  given  to  them.  Shall  I 
tell  you  how  I  found  them  ?     Will  it  tire  you  ?  " 

Then  the  story  was  told  of  how  the  father  and 
daughters  had  come  together,  and  by  the  time  it  was 
finished  the  nurse  thought  it  right  to  intervene,  and  the 
faded  woman  and  brilliant  young  girl  took  their  last 
leave  of  one  another. 

Two  days  after  this  Mrs.  Stanley  died,  and  St.  Errol, 
taking  Jock  with  him,  went  up  to  be  with  his  old  com- 
rade, leaving  Stella  and  her  family  at  the  castle,  all  of 


Difficult  Tasks.  271 

them  now  in  full  possession  of  the  secret  of  the  closed 
rooms  and  the  beautiful  portrait. 

By  general  consent  it  was  understood  that  Mr.  Birch- 
am,  as  he  was  now  known  to  be  and  called,  should 
have  these  rooms  for  his  *'  very  own."  Other  and  more 
sumptuous  apartments  were  at  his  disposal,  but  he  han- 
kered after  these  in  which  his  wife's  lifelike  portrait 
had  been  so  highly  honored  by  the  man  she  had  re- 
jected for  his  (Mr.  Bircham's)  sake. 

**  It  pains  me  and  does  me  good  in  a  way  to  be  in 
those  rooms,"  he  told  his  daughters  ;  "  they  make  me 
remember  that  I  was  a  jealous,  suspicious  fool  to  think 
your  mother  could  do  anything  but  right,  ami  that  I 
was  a  villain  to  desert  her." 

When  he  spoke  in  that  way  they  i)itiecl  and  petted 
him  ;  so  he  spoke  in  that  way  often,  and  was  very 
happy. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bentick  were  frequent  visitors.  Their 
love  and  admiration  for  Stella  had  never  wavered,  and 
their  trust  in  her  was  so  complete  that  they  discussed 
the  Devoran-Tooney  difficulty  with  her  freely. 

"  I  am  happy  to  say  it  has  not  retarded  Basil's  re- 
covery," Mr.  Bentick  said  one  day  ;  and  his  wife  added  : 

"  Ilis  strength  and  spirits  have  both  improved  won- 
derfully. I  am  sure  he  realized  the  mistake  he  had 
made  before  the  climax  came." 

"  I'm  glad  of  that  ;  I  shouldn't  like  to  think  that 
Basil  had  got  a  bad  blow,"  Stella  answered   cheerfully. 

And  Mrs.  Bentick  whisiiered  : 

"  May  we  bring  him  here  one  day  ?  A\'unld  it  be 
painful  to  you  in  any  way,  dear  ?" 

Mr.  Bentick  was  wandering  round  the  room  looking 
at  rare  orchids. 


272  Comrades  True. 

''Painful  ?  No,  indeed  !  I  am  very  fond  of  Basil. 
Poor,  dear  fellow!  he  couldn't  help  liking  someone 
better  than  he  did  me  !  " 

She  did  not  add,  "  And  I  can't  help  liking  some  one 
better  than  I  did  liim,"  but  she  thought  it. 

It  happened  that  on  the  very  mild  February  day  on 
which  the  Benticks  thought  that  it  would  be  safe  for 
their  much-prized  nephew  to  drive  as  far  as  Errol  Castle 
St.  Errol  and  Stanley  arrived.  Stella  was  in  the  midst 
of  her  duties  as  tea-entertaining  hostess — in  fact,  was 
just  giving  a  cup  of  the  refreshing  beverage  to  the 
young  hero  who  had  come  back  wounded  from  the 
South,  and  who  had  the  place  of  honor  at  her  side — 
when  St.  Errol  and  Stanley  walked  in,  accompanied  by 
Jock. 

The  terrier's  frantic  endeavors  to  pay  equal  attention 
to  Mrs.  Clifford  and  her  sister  created  a  happy  diver- 
sion, during  which  each  member  of  the  company  had 
time  to  recover  their  self-possession.  Before  any  one 
had  time  to  do  more  than  glare  at  any  one  else,  the  sis- 
ters had  put  their  heads  together,  and  Stella  was  able 
to  announce  that  "  Dalma  would  sing  a  patriotic  song 
or  two,"  and  at  that  moment  Lord  St.  Errol  loved  his 
young  ward  for  her  tactful  grace  and  cleverness  as  he 
had  never  loved  her  before. 

Dalma  sang.  How  exquisitely,  how  beautifully,  she 
rendered  "^  Soldiers  of  the  Queen  "  and  other  songs  of 
loyalty  and  bravery,  of  love  and  war,  can  scarcely  be 
told.  Her  audience  all  forgot  themselves,  and  thought 
only  of  our  fellow-countrymen,  fighting  for  Britain  and 
the  Queen  in  that  far  land  where  they  are  enduring 
pestilence,  famine,  and  deadly  disaster  for  their  coun- 
try's sake. 


Difikult  Tasks.  273 

Dalma's  songs  seemed  to  bring  them  all  nearer 
together  in  a  happier  way.  Captain  Bentick  struggled 
up  from  his  chair  and  made  his  way  to  the  couch  on 
which  >[r.  Ledger  Bircham  was  lying,  his  eyes  filled 
with  tears  of  joy  at  the  sight  of  the  appreciation  his 
daughter's  wonderful  vocal  genius  was  receiving. 

'•  I  must  congratulate  you,  sir,"  the  younger  man  be- 
gan rather  timidly;  ''to  be  the  father  of  two  such 
daughters  must  make  you  a  proud  man  indeed." 

'*  I  am  a  proud  man,  but  I  don't  deserve  to  have  such 
cause  for  my  pride.  Look  here,  young  fellow  :  if  ever 
you  get  hold  of  a  girl  as  good  as  my  wife  was,  and  as 
mv  daughters  are,  don't  make  the  mistake  I  made; 
don't  be  jealous  before  you  know  you  have  good  cause 
to  be  so,  and  don't  go  and  hide  away  from  the  sight  and 
knowledge  of  the  misery  you  have  caused." 

C'ai)tain  Bentick's  reply  to  this  homily  was  rather 
vague. 

"  Do  you  think  that  I  shall  ever  be  forgiven  for  my 
idiotic  folly  ?  "  lie  asked. 

"  By — by  my  daughter  Stella,  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  Yes." 

**  Wliy,  she  has  forgiven  you  already.  Full  yourself 
together,  my  good  lad,  aiul  make  a  fresh  start.  Stella's 
mother  forgave,  but  she  never  forgot.  Stella  is  like 
her  mother.  Besides,  you're  engaged  to  another  girl, 
are  you  not  ?  " 

"  The  other  girl  has  chucked  me.*" 

"It  seems  to  me  that  you  have  played  a  poor  game 
badly — as  far  as  women  arc  concerned.  Take  my 
advice  :  go  back  to  the  front  '/here  you're  sure  to  dis- 
tingitisli  yourself,  and  then-  — " 

"  What  then  ?  " 
18 


274  Comrades  True. 

"  Why,  you'll  find  yourself  run  after  by  any  number 
of  pretty  girls.  Here  comes  my  Stella  with  your  uncle 
and  aunt." 

''  And  my  note  of  dismissal/'  Basil  thought. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

TO   THE    FRONT. 

Mrs.  Tooxey  had  gone  gallantly  into  action  and 
borne  the  brunt  of  the  battle  on  behalf  of  her  son. 
She  had  pleaded,  wept,  prayed,  done  everything,  in 
fact,  that  a  mother  can  do  when  fighting  for  the  wel- 
fare— more  than  that,  the  honor — of  her  oflFspring. 

Mr.  Tooney  had  remained  inexorable.  On  one  con- 
dition only  would  he  come  to  the  assistance  of  his  son. 
That  condition  was  a  terrible  one  to  Mrs.  Tooney, 
thougli  she  disliked  the  prospect  of  the  Devoran  alli- 
ance quite  SIS  much  as  lier  husband  did.  The  condition 
was  this :  that  Larry's  engagement  to  Miss  O'Shca 
should  be  openly  proclaimed  on  the  night  of  the  party 
that  had  been  planned  by  Larry  in  Kathleen's  honor. 
When  tiiis  condition  was  made  plain  to  her  in  the 
most  lucid  legal  terms,  Mrs.  Tooney  played  her  strongest 
card. 

"If  such  a  thing  were  done,  I  would  lake  my 
daughters  away  from  Dublin  the  next  nioiiiing — yes, 
and  take  Katlileen  Devoran  with  me,  and  never  return 
to  it." 

"  You  would  surely  not  do  anything  so  idiotically 
raah  ?  " 

"  I  surely  should." 

275 


276  Comrades  True. 

Mr.  Tooney  pondered  for  a  moment.     Then  he  said  : 

''  Is  it  gambling  and  betting  ?  " 

*'  Tliat's  the  primary  cause  of  it,"  she  murmured. 

He  mused  again  for  a  few  minutes  that  seemed  hours 
to  Larry's  mother.     Then  he  said  : 

"  Look  here,  now.  This  is  what  I'll  do  for  my  boy, 
if  he  will  promise  through  you  that  he  will — in  a  decent 
way,  of  course — get  out  of  this  entanglement  with 
Kathleen  Devoran.  Miss  O'Shea  would  give  her  eyes 
for  him  ;  and  why  wouldn't  she,  indeed,  and  he  one  of 
the  grandest  fellows  in  Dublin  ? — I'll  go  farther  than 
that,  and  say  in  Ireland.  If  he'll  pledge  his  honor  to 
me  through  you  that  he  Avill  engage  himself  to  Miss 
O'Shea,  and  keep  the  affair  dark  for  a  time,  or  run 
away  with  her  and  make  an  end  of  the  matter  at  once, 
I'll  undertake  to  smooth  things  over  with  the  Benticks, 
and  Kate  will  be  no  worse  off  than  when  she  came  here." 

Mrs.  Tooney  shuddered.  Then  she  called  up  her 
courage,  and  said  :  "  And  you'll  give  Larry  the  money 
at  once — this  very  hour  ?  " 

"I  will;  but  why  you  should  be  in  such  a  hurry 
about  it,  I  can't  tell.  Bring  me  his  written  promise  to 
accept  my  condition,  and  I'll  give  you  the  cheque." 

She  clasped  her  hands  behind  her  head  with  a  gesture 
of  indescribable  relief.  Things  might  have  been  so 
much  worse  for  Larry. 

"  There's  Miss  O'Shea  to  be  reckoned  with,  you  must 
remember,"  she  said  to  her  husband. 

"  She'll  accept  him  fast  enough,  never  fear.  If  she 
does  not,  the  fault  will  not  be  hers,  if  he  proposes  to 
her.  I  shall  feel,  if  he  does,  that  he  has  kept  to  liis 
part  of  the  bargain,  and  I  shall  not  repent  of  mine," 

Mrs.  Tooney  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief. 


To  the  Front.  277 

*'  I  will  go  to  Larry  at  once,"  slie  said. 

She  carried  out  her  mission  so  well  that  Larry 
accepted  his  father's  terms  and  cheque,  after  delivering 
himself  of  a  few  nicely-worded  scruples.  Having  done 
that,  he  })repared  to  enjoy  himself  to  the  best  of  his 
ability  at  the  party  which  he  had  originally  intended 
should  be  given  in  Kathleen's  honor. 

It  was  a  brilliant  gathering,  for  Larry  Tooncy  was  a 
popular  man  in  Dublin.  There  Avas  a  rare  gathering  of 
fair  women  and  brave  men. 

But  perhaps  the  most  brilliantly-accontered  person  in 
the  room  was  Miss  O'Sliea.  Personally  bereft  of  her 
plumage,  she  was  not  dazzling.  Large  and  tall,  with  a 
fair,  freckled,  snub-nosed  face,  surmounted  by  a  head 
of  dull  brown  hair,  and  illumined  by  a  pair  of  lack- 
luster eyes  of  a  yellowish  tint,  the  great  heiress  would 
never  have  won  King  Cophetua  **  barefooted  and  in 
rags."  But  in  her  war-paint  she  made  eyes  unaccus- 
tomed to  look  at  her  in  her  full-dress  glory  blink.  A 
V-shaped  stomacher  of  diamonds  almost  concealed  the 
front  of  her  dress  of  saffron-colored  satin,  entirely 
veiled  in  the  richest  old  Mechlin  lace.  The  sleeves  of 
this  bodice  were  bands  of  diamonds.  Three  fillets  of 
diamonds  held  her  dull  hair  in  place  around  her  badly- 
held  head.  Her  throat  was  too  short  to  admit  of  her 
wearing  more  than  one  necklace  of  these  gems  round 
it.  But  she  made  up  for  this  by  wearing  so  many 
bracelets  on  her  brawny  arms  that  she  bruised  every  €»no 
with  whom  she  collided  when  she  was  dancing.  She 
represented  boundless  wealth  as  opposed  to  the  cultured 
taste  of  every  other  woman  in  the  room,  and  T^arry 
felt  liimself  to  be  the  battle-field  on  which  these  op- 
posing forces  met. 


27B  Comrades  True. 

He  looked  at  Miss  O'Shea,  and  his  hitherto  always 
buoyant  soul  sank  within  him  as  he  realized  that  the 
wearer  of  the  gems  would  be  always  with  him  if  he 
fulfilled  the  promise  he  had  given  to  his  father  through 
his  mother.  But  how  binding  that  promise  was  !  If 
he  broke  it,  how  his  mother's  heart  would  ache  !  If  he 
kept  it,  how  his  own  heart  would  ache  for  himself  !  In 
order  to  drive  away  dull  care  for  a  few  minutes,  he 
danced  with  Kathleen,  and  in  the  course  of  the  brief 
time  he  spent  with  her  he  asked  : 

"  Kathleen,  which  would  you  rather  it  should  be  : 
that  I  should  free  you  and  let  you  go  back  to  happiness 
and  prosperity  with  Bentick,  or  come  away  with  me 
and  share  a  scamp's  life  ?  " 

The  poor  little  girl's  warm,  impulsive  heart  beat  all 
too  quickly  for  her  worldly  welfare.  But  she  preserved 
a  dignified  air,  as  she  answered  : 

"  Neither  prosperity  with  Captain  Bentick  nor  a  share 
in  a  scamp's  life,  but  a  share  in  yours,  Larry." 

A  ball  rose  in  his  throat  that  nearly  choked  him. 
He  could  never  have  played  successfully  the  part  of 
villain  on  the  stage.  He  felt  too  keenly  and  showed 
his  feelings  too  openly. 

"  Kathleen,  you  are  worlds  too  good  for  me,"  he 
managed  to  say  at  last.  "  Will  you  be  brave  and  strong, 
and  shut  your  ears  to  anything  that  you  may  hear 
against  me  to-morrow  ?" 

"That  I  will" 

He  had  taken  her  out  into  a  palm-decorated  passage, 
and  as  he  spoke  he  stooped  and  kissed  her  brow. 

"  Dear  little  girl  !  poor  little  girl  !  You've  raised  my 
soul  sufficiently  to  make  me  say  to  you  farewell." 

*'  Larry  ! " 


To  the   Front.  279 

But  Larry  was  gone  to  resume  his  public  duties  as 
host,  aud  Katlileeu  Wiis  left  alone  with  the  palms  and  her 
own  retloctions. 

Poor  little  girl  indeed  !  There  liad  been  nothing 
light  or  uncertain  in  his  tone  and  nuinnor  when  he 
spoke  the  words  that  were  the  knell  of  hope  and  love 
to  Kathleen.  He  had  meant  them.  She  felt  sure  of 
that.  But  she  was  a  gallant  soldier's  daughter,  and 
after  that  one  expression  of  pain  which  found  its  vent 
in  the  single  word  •'  Larry  !  "  she  controlled  herself, 
and  went  through  the  rest  of  the  evening  with  a  calm 
demeanor,  a  white  face,  and  an  aching  heart.  But  no 
one  guessed  she  was  suffering  from  this  latter,  for  she 
had  the  courage  of  her  father's  race,  and  held  herself 
proudly. 

But  it  was  a  terrible  time  for  her.  She  saw  Larry 
dancing  with  Miss  O'Shea,  aud  looking  into  Miss 
O'Shea's  dull  eyes  as  if  he  were  interested  in  her  idle, 
vapid  talk. 

"  "What  have  I  done  to  deserve  this  ?"  poor  Kathleen 
asked  herself.  Then  conscience  arose  and  smote  her. 
As  Larry  was  treating  her  now,  so  had  she  treated 
Captain  Bentick.  She  was  as  false  to  another  man  as 
Larry  Tooney  was  to  her.  "  I  deserve  it,"  she  said  to 
herself,  but  the  saying  it  brought  lier  no  comfort. 

The  knowledge  that  she  had  broken  her  troth  came 
lionie  to  her  in  that  hour,  and  stung  her  sharply.  The 
nnm  to  whom  she  had  pledged  herself  first  was  an 
honorable  gt-ntlenum,  the  saviour  of  her  father,  her 
own  loyal  friend.  'J'lie  man  for  wlioso  sake  she  had 
thrown  over  this  loyal  friend  had  paid  her  back  in  her 
own  coin — in  other  words,  had  lurniMl  deserter. 

V(>i)V  little  girl   indeed  !     She   felt   utterly  crushed, 


28o  Comrades  True. 

but  no  one  would  have  guessed  it.  Women  are  as 
high-couraged  as  men  when  their  best  feelings  are 
called  into  action,  as  Kathleen's  were  this  night.  Full 
of  pain  as  her  heart  was  for  herself,  her  first  thought 
was  to  save  the  family  who  had  been  kind  to  her  from 
feeling  even  embarrassment  on  her  account.  So  she 
flung  away  all  appearance  of  depression,  and  appeared 
to  be  the  blithest,  merriest  girl  in  the  room. 

The  hardest  part  she  had  to  play  that  night  was 
when  Miss  O'Shea  sailed  down  upon  her,  as  she  thought 
herself  safely  harbored  in  a  corner.  The  great  heiress 
had  a  shrewd  suspicion  of  how  matters  stood  between 
Larry  and  this  meagerly-endowed  young  lady,  who  had 
not  even  the  merit  of  being  wholly  Irish.  To  ignore 
her  would  he  the  very  best  Miss  Devoran  would  ask  at 
her  hands,  the  heiress  felt  intuitively.  So  she  resolved 
to  patronize  and  '*  be  kind"  to  her  in  front  of  the  best 
Dublin  society. 

"  I  want  to  know  your  mother's  pretty  little  friend. 
Miss  Devoran,"  she  said,  as  she  and  Larry  were  strolling 
through  the  palm-adorned  corridor. 

"  My  mother  will  introduce  you  to  her  with  pleasure," 
he  said  quickly. 

''  I  want  you  to  introduce  us  to  each  other,"  she 
replied.  "  Come,  now ;  there  she  is,  sitting  alone  in 
that  corner.     It's  a  good  opportunity." 

To  Larry  it  was  a  hateful  opportunity,  but  he  was  com- 
pelled to  take  it.  With  the  easiest  air  he  could  assume 
he  brought  up  the  purse-proud  girl  to  whom  hard  fate 
had  compelled  him  to  surrender,  and  introduced  her  to 
the  graceful  little  lady  whose  horizon  he  had  darkened. 
His  punishment  followed  quick  upon  his  offense,  as  he 
marked  the  demeanor  of  the  two.     He  felt  that  it  was 


To  the  Front.  281 

a  scene  that  would  live  forever  in  his  menior}- — tlie 
higli-bred  calm  of  the  one  girl,  the  absurdly  elated 
manner  of  the  other.  lie  winced  as  he  stood  by,  look- 
ing on,  and  felt  that  indeed  his  sin  had  found  him  out. 

Lord  St.  Errol  had  come  to  the  conclusion  many 
weeks  before  this  that  his  life  was  an  aimless  and  useless 
one  in  the  face  of  the  facts  of  the  great  war.  lie  had  ac- 
cordingly put  himself  in  the  handsof  a  past-master  in  the 
art  of  horsemanship.  Ilis  instructor  was  one  who  knew 
and  could  practically  teach  every  detail  of  military  rid- 
ing. Stirrupless,  bridlcless,  heavily  accoutcred,  St.  Errol 
was  now  able  to  take  any  obstacle  that  was  put  up  in 
the  military  riding-schools.  He  had  also  given  himself 
a  good  course  of  work  in  the  hunting-field,  and  was  a 
match  now  for  even  a  Mexican  buck-jumper,  which  he 
liad  got  for  the  sake  of  experience.  Accordingly,  Avhen 
the  Imperial  Yeomanry  was  started,  he  was  one  of  the 
first  to  volunteer.  His  services  were  accepted,  and  the 
day  of  his  departure  Avas  drawing  very  near. 

Stella  could  express  her  grief,  mingled  wiLli  pride,  at 
his  going  openly  ;  Mrs.  Clifford  could  not  speak  about 
it.  She  had  "no  right "  to  take  an  interest  in  him, 
therefore  she  dared  not  show  it.  So,  after  the  manner 
of  weak  womanhood,  she  grew  cool  and  distant,  avoided 
him  as  much  as  possible,  devoted  herself  to  her  futiier 
entirt-ly  in  public,  and  held  Jock's  sympathetic  paw 
with  tears  in  private. 

Jock  seemed  to  know  all  aI)out  it  so  well.  ^Vin•ll 
the  whole  party  were  assembled,  he  would  sit  and  look 
wistfully  at  his  master,  offer  a  i)a\v,  and  when  that  had 
been  taken  and  shaken,  he  would  trot  over  to  Mrs. 
ClifTord  and  repeat  the  performance  with  her.     In  his 


282  Comrades  True.  ' 

dear  doggy  way  he  tried  all  he  could  to  bring  these  two 
together,  and  his  disappointment  was  patent  to  every 
one. 

The  liner  in  which  St.  Errol  was  to  sail  was  to  leave 
Southampton  in  a  week.  It  was  a  time  of  extreme 
tension,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  Mrs.  Clifford  received  a 
liberal  offer  to  sing  at  the  Crystal  Palace. 

The  terms  were  good.  Accordingly  the  young  widow 
went,  and  was  about  to  sing,  when  there  was  a  curious 
diversion. 

Mr.  Lord  George  Sanger's  circus  had  been  in  posses- 
sion of  the  Crystal  Palace  for  some  time.  On  this 
special  day  something  had  arisen  which  had  annoyed 
the  elephants.  These  worthies  are  rather  difficult  to 
deal  with  when  annoyed.  They  have  a  way  of  taking 
things  into  their  own  hands  and  trunks  which  is  apt  to 
be  disconcerting  to  their  human  fellow-creatures,  and 
two  of  them  were  irritable  and  took  this  way  that 
day. 

Dalma  had  just  walked  on  to  the  concert-platform, 
when  the  news  was  noised  through  the  building  that 
two  of  the  elephants  had  broken  loose  and  were  ram- 
bling about.  Secure  in  the  consciousness  of  being  safely 
protected  (as  she  thought)  by  stout  masonry  and  thick 
plate  glass,  the  beautiful  diva  sang  out  the  opening 
lines  of  her  first  number.  Her  rich,  brilliant  soprano 
notes  were  ringing  thrillingly  through  the  place,  when 
they  were  suddenly  accompanied  by  a  trumpeting  that 
was  as  terrifying  as  it  was  unexpected.  The  sweet 
soprano  fled,  followed  by  her  audience,  and  the  elephant 
walked  quietly  through  the  concert-room  and  broke 
chairs  and  everything  else  that  came  in  his  way. 

The  episode  was   startling  to   Dalma's  nerves,   but 


To  the  Front.  283 

good  for  her  professionally.  In  the  slang  language  of 
the  day,  it  '*  boomed"  her  well.  The  management  at 
once  offered  her  sucli  splendid  terms  that  she  did  not 
feel  justified  in  refusing  them.  And  while  she  waited 
in  Loudon  St.  Errol's  orders  came,  and  at  a  few  hours' 
notice  he  had  to  join  his  company  and  be  off  to  the  front. 

Happily  for  him  and  for  all  who  loved  and  were  in- 
terested in  him,  he  had  only  a  few  hours  in  which  to 
prepare  to  make  ready  and  be  off.  Tlie  long-drawn-out 
agony  of  waiting  for  many  days  for  orders  to  join  after 
receiving  the  commission  can  only  be  i;nderstood  by 
those  who  have  undergone  it,  and  those  who  have  had 
to  stand  by  and  see  them  undergo  it.  The  tension  is 
so  awful  that  it  strains  the  heartstrings  of  the  bravest 
men  and  women,  and  the  latter  have  the  bitterest  part 
of  it.  For  the  men  who  go  have  action,  fame,  honor, 
distinction,  in  front  of  them,  while  the  women  have  to 
stay  at  home  with  their  memories.  In  fact,  it  is  the 
old  story  which  is  always  new,  '*'  Men  must  work  and 
women  must  weep." 

The  ones  who  work  have  by  far  the  happier  part  of  the 
portion  allotted  to  us.  "Work  is  so  infinitely  to  be  2)re- 
ferred  to  wailing  or  waiting  in  idleness. 

But  before  he  went  he  felt  that  he  must  say  some- 
thing to  Mrs.  Clifford's  father  about  the  deep  attach- 
ment, love,  and  reverence  he  had  for  her.  Even  if  she 
had  been  with  them,  his  delicate  thought  for  her  would 
have  nuide  him  refrain  from  speaking  words  of  love  to 
her.  But  now  he  was  going  away,  possibly  never  to 
return.  So  he  told  his  tale  and  uttered  his  hopes  to 
Mr.  Jjcdsrer  Bircham,  and  had  tlie  baj)])iness  of  hearing 
from  Stella  that  he  was  well  luved  by  her  sister  iu 
return. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

BRAVE   AND  TRUE. 

The  way  Stella  gave  the  information  that  was  so  pre- 
cious to  St.  Errol  was  very  characteristic.  From  her 
father  she  learnt  that  St.  Errol  had  spoken  out  to  him 
openly  like  an  honorable  gentleman.  At  the  same  time 
she  learnt  that,  with  the  not  unusnal  selfishness  of  age, 
Mr.  Ledger  Bircham  was  very  much  disinclined  to  part 
with  a  daughter  whom  he  had  only  just  recovered,  and 
who  ministered  to  all  his  wants,  wishes,  and  whims  ad- 
mirably. 

"  I  have  told  him  plainly  that  she  has  had  enough  of 
the  marriage  state,  that  she  is  devoted  to  her  '  profes- 
sion '  or  '  art,'  or  whatever  you  call  it,  and  have  re- 
quested that  he  will  not  disturb  her  peace  of  mind  by 
asking  her  to  engage  herself  to  him  before  he  goes. 
Why,  bless  my  heart,  we  should  never  have  an  hour's 
quietude  !  If  she  didn't  hear  from  iiim  she  would  fret 
herself  to  death  and  worry  me  ;  and  if  she  heard  he  was 
wounded  matters  would  be  worse.  From  every  point 
of  view,  it  is  better  he  should  go  away  leaving  her 
free." 

"  From  my  point  of  view,  he  will  do  a  foolish  thing 
if  he  does  not   speak  out  to   Dalma  before  he  goes," 
Stella  said  firmly. 
284 


Brave  aiul  True.  285 

Inaction  had  made  Mr.  Bircham  irritable.  Irritabil- 
ity wjis  making  him  unjust  and  peevish. 

"  I  wonder  at  your  giving  such  counsel,"  he  said 
drylv. 

"Why  ?" 

"  Captain  Bentick  spoke  out  to  you  before  he  went, 
and " 

"  Found  out  tliat  he  cared  more  for  some  one  else  be- 
fore ho  came  back.  Yes,  father,  I  remember  all  that 
part  of  my  life's  story  very  well.  But  Basil  Bentick  was 
driven  by  circumstances,  and  lie  hasn't  St.  Errol's  strong, 
steadfast  nature." 

"  Marriage  in  our  family  has  invariably  been  attended 
with  unhappiness,"  Mr.  Bircham  murmured  solemnly. 
*•  My  father  and  mother  separated  on  the  ground  of  in- 
compatibility of  temper.  Your  poor  dear  mother  ut- 
terly failed  to  understand  me.  Dalma  married  a  selfish, 
cold-blooded  fellow  who  made  her  life  one  of  self-abne- 
gation and  misery,  and  now  you  want  to  urge  iier  on  to 
take  another  false  step." 

Stella  loved  her  father  dearly,  but  her  patience  had 
come  to  an  end. 

*'  If  she  takes  a  step  towards  St.  Errol,  it  will  not  bo 
a  false  one,"  she  said,  and  then  retreated  hastily  before 
her  father  could  answer  her. 

St.  Errol  and  his  ward  had  from  the  first  been  warm- 
est, truest  friends.  There  was  nothing  that  she  could 
do  that  he  could  misunderstand.  A  warm-hearted  girl 
— true  as  steel.  Whatever  she  did  he  knew  would  be 
done  in  tlie  right  direction. 

80  he  felt  that  things  were  going  fairly  well  with 
him,  when,  after  her  interview  with  her  father,  she 
found  him  out  somewhere  in  the  grounds,  and  said,  as 


286  Comrades  True. 

she  took  him  gently  a  prisoner  by  laying  a  hand  on  his 
arm : 

"  Dear  St.  Errol,  you  are  not  my  guardian  any  longer, 
but  you  are  more — you  are  like  a  dear  brother  to  me. 
I  know  that  you  have  told  father  that  you  love  my 
sister  Dalma." 

"I  have."  '  ". 

''  And  he  ?  " 

"  Wishes  me  to  say  nothing  to  her  until  I  come  back 
— if  I  ever  do  come  back." 

"  You  shall  not  go  away  without  letting  her  know 
that  your  heart  is  hers,  as  hers  is  yours,"  Stella  said 
pathetically. 

'^Do  you  think  she  cares  for  me — cares  enough  for 
me  to  pledge  herself  to  a  fellow  who  may  most  likely 
never  come  back  to  redeem  his  pledge  to  her  ?  Your 
father  wants  her  to  be  left  free  ;  but  understand,  Stella, 
I  feel  myself  bound.  No  other  woman  shall  ever  bear 
my  name  or  hold  my  heart." 

"  I  understand  and  believe  you  ;  but  she  ought  to 
know  the  beautiful  truth,  too.  Oh,  St.  Errol  !  dear 
St.  Errol !  don't  go  away  without  giving  her  a  piece  of 
tlie  only  heart's-ease  women  care  for.  I  know  I  am 
doing  wrong  in  acting  against  my  father's  wishes.  I 
know  I  am  acting  rather  a  strange  part  in  asking  you 
to  ask  my  sister  to  be  your  wife  before  you  leave  for  the 
front.  I  know  that  a  girl  ought  not  to  put  such  a  diffi- 
cult case  plainly  before  a  man.  But  Dalma  is  so  dear, 
so  very  dear,  to  me,  and  you  come  next." 

"  You're  the  dearest  and  bravest  of  girls,  and  if  I'm 
ever  happy  enough  to  be  your  brother,  it  will  be  in 
*love'  as  well  as  in  'law,'  my  dear  Stella." 

She  began  to  dance  about  on  the  lawn,  and  to   sing 


Brave  and  True.  287 

little  snatches  of  songs  which  she  had  caught  np  from 
her  sister  Dalma  ;  and  then,  in  the  moment  of  her  giv- 
ing expression  to  tlie  joyousness  of  having  made  things 
clear  between  Dalma  and  St.  Errol,  Stanley  came  in  and 
misnnderstood  the  situation. 

She  was  flirting  with  St.  Errol,  he  thought,  and  he 
(St.  Errol)  was  the  better  man,  he  told  himself.  As  he 
thought  this,  Jock  came  up  to  him,  jumping  and  bark- 
ing with  delight,  and  so  made  his  presence  known  to  St. 
Errol  and  Stella. 

There  had  been  too  many  misunderstandings  in  her 
own  case  for  Stella  to  be  over  nicely  scrupulous  now. 
Her  sister's  happiness  was  at  stake,  and  that  was  dearer 
to  her  than  any  little  point  of  etiquette.  Accordingly 
she  stepped  up  to  Stanley  before  he  could  beat  a  retreat, 
and  said  : 

**  Congratulate  me — congratulate  me  heartily.  St. 
Errol  is  going  to  marry  my  sister,  and  I  think  I  must 
be  the  happiest  girl  in  England." 

Iler  love  and  thought  for  others,  her  joy  in  their  joy 
touched  him  deeply,  and  endeared  her  to  him  more  than 
ever. 

More  than  ever.  But  still  the  vein  of  obstinacy  in  his 
nature  kept  him  from  declaring  how  much  he  loved 
her,  and  how  he  longed  to  claim  her  for  his  own.  More- 
over, he  labored  under  the  delusion  that  she  still  loved 
B:iail  Bentick,  and  he  was  too  proud  to  fight  that  pos- 
sibility. So  all  lie  said  in  response  to  her  outburst  of 
enthusiasm  was  : 

"  I  am  glad  you're  so  happy  about  it.  St.  Errol  is 
one  of  the  best  chaps  living." 

"  And  my  sister  is  the  very  sweetest  of  women.  Xo 
one  but  I  knows  what  she  endured  in  hor  life  with  Mr. 


288  Comrades  True. 

Clifford.  His  desertion  was  not  the  worst  part  of  it. 
Poor  Dalma  !  When  I  think  of  what  she  endured,  I 
could  cry  from  happiness  to  think  that  she  will  have 
such  a  friend,  such  a  splendid  friend  and  husband,  as 
St.  Errol  will  be  to  her." 

As  they  spoke  they  sauntered  down  towards  the  lake. 
It  was  a  lovely  sunny  March  morning.  The  lawns  were 
carpeted  richly  with  snowdrops  and  every  variety  of 
crocus,  from  snow-white  ones  to  every  shade  of  gold  and 
violet.  The  boyhood  of  the  year  is  a  very  beautiful 
period,  especially  when  there  are  no  easterly  winds  about. 
The  brightness  and  beauty  of  it  all  impressed  Stella 
deeply  and  subdued  the  exuberant  joy  she  had  been 
expressing  a  few  moments  before.  Presently,  when  they 
came  to  the  border  of  the  lake,  Stanley  broke  a  rather 
long  silence  : 

"  Do  you  remember  coming  here  the  day  I  first  knew 
you  and  picking  water-lilies  ?  " 

"  1  have  never  forgotten  it." 

''  Nor  have  I.  Now  I  will  gather  a  few  snowdrops  and 
white  violets  for  you.  Will  you  take  them  from  me  ?  " 

She  bent  her  head  in  assent.  She  had  no  words  at 
command.  Was  he  going  to  speak  at  last  ?  she  asked 
herself,  or  Avould  he  never  forget  and  forgive  her  brief 
inconstancy  with  Captain  Bentick  ?  As  she  thought 
this,  she  looked  at  him  as  he  handed  her  the  few  flowers 
he  had  gathered  and  tied  together  with  a  slender  blade 
of  grass — looked  at  him  with  such  pathetic  jileading  in 
her  pretty  eyes  that  he  read  the  secret  she  had  never 
revealed  before.  Even  then  he  made  a  stout  effort  to  for- 
bear uttering  the  words  of  love  that  were  filling  his  heart; 
but  the  strain  was  too  strong,  it  overpowered  him. 

"  Stella,  you  must  have  known    how  much  I  have 


Brave  and  True.  289 

loved  you  all  this  time  I  "  he  said,  grasping  the  hand 
that  hold  the  flowers  lie  had  just  given  her. 

'•I  did  not  know  ;  I  only  hoped  you  did,"  she  said 
frankly  ;  and  the  world  went  very  well  with  them  then 
for  an  hour  or  two. 

He  told  her  much  of  his  early  life  that  she  had  never 
known  or  dreamt  of  hefore.  It  had  been  a  life  of  hard- 
ship and  solitariness  until  he  met  with  St.  Errol  and 
Jock.  His  parents  had  died  when  he  was  a  little  boy 
of  ten,  and  then  he  had  been  given  food  and  a  home  of 
a  sad  kind  by  a  grandmother,  who  had  disliked  his 
mother,  and  never  forgiven  her  son  for  the  marriage,  of 
which  Staidey  and  one  sister  were  the  results.  When 
his  grandmother  died,  she  left  her  money  to  various 
charities,  with  the  exception  of  fifty  pounds  to  Stanley, 
with  the  expressed  hope  that  he  "  would  use  it  wisely 
and  well,  ami  by  means  of  it  carve  out  an  Jionorable 
career  for  himself. "  The  words  were  neither  cheering 
nor  affectionate. 

But  Stanley  acted  upon  them,  nevertheless.  He 
spent  that  fifty  pounds  to  such  good  purpose  that  he 
passed  first  in  a  stiff  competitive  examination,  and 
became  an  Admiralty  clerk.  Then  the  solitude  which 
had  been  the  cross  of  liis  life  was  over,  for  at  the  office 
lie  met  St.  Errol,  and  their  comradeship  began — a 
comradeship  built  on  such  manly,  honorable  lines  that 
it  is  never  likely  to  end. 

They  had  got  into  the  boat,  and  were  rowing  slowly 
about  the  lake,  reminding  each  other  of  little  incidents 
in  their  past  intercourse,  and  feeling  happy  as  only 
lovers  can  feel,  when  a  footman  appeared  on  the  bank 
and  waved  to  them  iti  an  excited  way  that  prompted 
them  to  row  faster  and  Iiear  what  his  mission  might  be. 
»9 


29<5  Comrades  True. 

It  was  that  Mr.  Ledger  Bircham  desired  the  presence 
of  his  daughter  at  once. 

"  We  wou^t  say  anything  to  my  father  about  onr 
engagement  to-day  ;  let  him  get  over  Dalma's  and  St. 
Errol's  first,"  she  said,  as  they  walked  back  to  the  cas- 
tle ;  and  he  acquiesced  in  her  wish,  though  he  would 
far  rather  have  had  a  clear  and  open  understanding 
with  Stella's  father  at  once.  But  he  was  love  loyal  to 
the  least  wish  of  his  heart's  queen,  and  so  consented  to 
keep  their  engagement  private  for  a  time. 

"You  see,"  Stella  argued,  *'poor  dear  father  feels 
that  he  has  himself  to  blame  for  having  left  his  daugh- 
ters to  their  own  devices  all  these  years.  That  feeling 
makes  him  wish  to  show  the  world  that  we  are  quite 
happy  and  content  to  stay  with  him  now.  Don't  be 
impatient ;  it  won't  be  for  long.  As  soon  as  his  leg  is 
quite  well  he  will  take  up  his  beloved  gardening  again, 
and  won't  be  so  greedy  for  his  daughters'  society." 

"But  he  will  surely  never  go  back  to  The  Hulk. 
He  will  live  with  the  St.  Errols." 

"  I  don't  know.  My  father  is  a  very  proud  man,  and 
he  has  lived  a  life  of  dull  independence  for  so  many 
years  that  I  think  he  would  find  it  irksome  to  live  in 
another  man's  house.  He  tells  me  that  all  these  years 
that  he  has  lived  at  The  Hulk  he  never  spoke  to  any 
one  of  his  own  class  until  jMrs.  Ogilvie  and  I  picked 
him  up  the  day  he  broke  his  leg.  That  kind  of  life 
unfits  a  man  for  social  and  domestic  life,  especially  in 
another  man's  house.  We  both  love  our  father  dearly, 
but  I  think  he  will  be  happier  in  his  own  way  in  his 
own  home  than  with  either  of  us." 

"  Your  will  shall  always  be  my  law,  my  dearest 
dear  ! "  and  when  he  told  her  that,  Stella  made  a  strong 


Brave  and  True.  291 

resolve  that  she  would  never  '•  will  "  anything  of  whioii 
she  was  not  quite  sure  he  would  approve. 

How  could  her  heart  ever  have  strayed  from  liim  ? 
she  wondered  ;  but  that  it  had  done  so  she  admitted 
with  shame  to  herself.  Basil  lU'utick  had  fascinated 
her,  and  she  had  fluctuated  from  Staidey,  but  now  she 
liad  returned  never  to  waver  again. 

She  knew  where  to  find  her  father,  lie  was  sure  to 
bo  in  the  room  where  her  dead  mother's  portrait  was 
enshrined.  She  went  into  the  room  in  a  glad,  gay, 
buoyant  way,  with  the  words,  '''  Here  I  am,  dear  father," 
and  then  checked  herself  into  a  more  demure  de- 
meanor as  she  saw  he  had  a  guest  with  him,  for  whose 
presence  she  was  entirely  unprepared. 

*♦*♦*# 

Larry  Tooney  was  voted  by  a  lot  of  impecunious 
young  men  to  be  ''  the  luckiest  fellow  in  Dublin*'  the 
day  after  the  gathering  ho  had  given  in  Kathleen's 
honor.  His  engagement  to  ^liss  O'Shea  was  publicly 
announced,  and  if  he  had  been  a  Prince  of  the  Blood 
Royal  the  civic  authorities  could  scarcely  have  shown 
liim  more  honor.  Men  envied  him  for  having  secured 
the  great  heiress.  (J iris  envied  her  for  having  secured 
the  brilliant  Larry.  Tiiere  was  only  one  poor  little 
lieart  tliat  could  not  rejoice  about  it,  and  that  one 
ahked  in  silence  in  a  way  that  was  pitiful  to  behold. 

Mrs.  Tooney  and  her  daughters  took  counsel  together 
as  to  how  they  should  best  and  most  considerately 
break  it  to  her.  But  Kathleen  knew  and  understood 
it  all  through  every  nerve  and  fiber  of  her  beiiii,'  before 
they  aj)proached  her  on  the  subject. 

They  were  all  so  extra  tender  and  considerate  for  her 
when  she  went  down  to  breakfast  that  morning  tiiat  she 


292  Comrades  True. 

felt  compelled  to  take  her  courage  in  her  hands  and 
show  mercy  to  these  unwilling  enemies  who  so  longed 
to  spare  her  feelings.  So  when  slie  had  fortified  her- 
self with  a  cup  of  coffee  and  a  morsel  of  dry  toast,  she 
tried  to  aid  them  by  saying  : 

"  I  know  you  are  all  wishing  to  be  kind  and  break  it 
gently  to  me,  but  Larry  did  the  right  thing  last  night." 

"  Did  he  tell  you  ?  "  they  all  exclaimed. 

"Not  in  so  many  words;  but  he  offered  me  my 
freedom  from  my  engagement  to  him,  and  I  took  it. 
Don't  cry,  Mrs.  Tooney.  Larry  has  not  behaved  dis- 
honorably. Last  night  he  gave  me  the  option  of  shar- 
ing his  life  or  of  leaving  him.  I  knew  that  if  I  shared 
his  life  his  lot  would  be  a  hard  one,  so  I  have  left  him 
free — to  Miss  O'Shea  and  prosperity." 

She  had  not  thought  out  her  speech  before  uttering 
it.  It  came  straight  from  her  gallant  little  heart,  and 
each  one  of  her  hearers  felt  tliat  it  did  so. 

Mrs.  Tooney  and  her  daughters  sobbed  openly.  To 
hear  the  son  and  brother  whom  they  all  adored  de- 
fended by  the  girl  to  whom  they  felt  he  had  behaved 
badly  moved  their  warm  Irish  hearts  to  infinite  pity 
and  tenderness.  But  Mr.  Tooney  could  not  find  relief 
for  his  feelings  in  tears.  He  was  made  of  stern  stuff. 
But  his  heart  bled  now  for  his  old  friend's  daughter. 

He  realized  that  it  was  his  hand  which  had  planted 
the  dagger  in  her  heart.  If  he  had  helped  Larry  un- 
conditionally, Larry  would  not  have  sold  himself  to  the 
heiress.  As  it  was — well,  he  would  "  think  the  thing 
out,  and  provide  for  the  girl  as  if  she  were  his  own 
daughter." 

But  Kathleen  was  not  to  be  disposed  of  as  easily  as 
he  thought. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

C  L  E  A  Ji  1  N  «    T  11  E    A  I  R. 

**  PARTixCf  may  be  such  sweet  sorrow  "  when  you  are 
parting  from  the  loved  one  for  a  brief  period,  and  you 
know  that  the  loved  one  is  going  away  into  safety  or 
almost  certain  safety.  But  when  a  niotlicr  knows  that 
the  son  she  idolizes  is  going  unquestionably  for  years, 
or  it  may  be  forever,  or  when  one  is  parting  from  a 
lover  only  just  gained,  there  is  very  little  sweetness 
about  the  sorrow. 

St.  Errol's  orders  to  join  had  come.  As  usual  in 
these  stirring  times,  tliey  were  sharp,  decisive,  and 
peremptory.  He  was  to  start  at  once  and  make  his  way 
to  Southampton  without  delay,  and  Stella  was  painfully 
sure  that  he  would  be  obliged  to  go  away  without  giv- 
ing her  sister  the  right  that  is  dearest  to  a  woman — 
namely,  that  of  showing  an  open  and  tender  interest  in 
him. 

''Unless,"  she  communed  witli  herself — "unless  I 
do  something  for  them.  And  I'll  do  it,  too,"  she  added 
resolutely. 

Stanley  was  not  by  to  take  counsel  with.  So  she  took 
counsel  of  her  own  afTectionate  heart  and  despatched  a 
telegram  to  her  sister  entreating  her  to  meet  the  liner 
by  which  St.  Errol  would  leave  the  next  morning.  She 

293 


294  Comrades  True. 

added  :  ''It's  a  matter  of  life  and  death  ;  and  having 
done  this,  she  felt  less  miserable  when  she  took  leave 
of  St.  Errol. 

Mr.  Ledger  Bircham  was  grimly  gratified  at  the 
suddenness  of  it,  also  by  Dalma's  being  away  at  the 
time. 

"  As  it  is,"  he  said  to  Stella,  "  the  young  fellow — 
and  nice  fine  young  fellow  he  is — goes  away  without 
any  humbugging  thoughts  of  the  girl  he  leaves  behind 
him." 

*'I'm  not  so  sure  about  that,  father,"  Stella  said 
demurely. 

He  looked  at  her  thoughtfully  for  a  moment  or  two, 
thought  better  of  uttering  them,  and  said  : 

"  I  wonder  how  my  garden  looks.  I  was  a  long  time 
getting  it  to  its  present  state  of  jDerfection,  and  now  I 
suppose  that  boy  has  turned  it  into  a  Avilderness. 
Where  is  Stanley  ?  " 

"  Gone  with  St.  Errol  to  see  him  off." 

''I  thought  perhaps  he  would  have  ridden  over  to 
have  a  look  at  the  place  for  me."  Then  he  went  on  to 
bemoan  himself,  and  say  how  hard  it  was  to  be  laid  by 
the  leg.  "  If  it  had  been  in  action  I  shouldn't  have 
cared.  But  to  be  here  doing  nothing  because  I  was 
idiot  enough  to  slip  over  a  stile  is  hard." 

"  Don't  mind  it,  dad  dear.  If  it  hadn't  been  for 
that,  you  would  never  have  known  us." 

The  old  sailor  was  touched  in  a  moment,  and  to 
hide  the  emotion  he  felt  he  said  quickly. 

"  Now  I  wonder,  my  dear  child,  if  you  would  drive 
over  to  The  Hulk,  and  have  a  look  at  the  garden  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  will.  You're  very  fond  of  that  gar- 
den^ arc  you  not,  father  ?  " 


Clearins^  the  Air.  295 

**  It  was  my  only  friend-companion  for  ten  years." 

"  Poor  fatlicr  I  "  she  said  compassionately  ;  and  then 
she  went  np  and  kissed  him,  and  lie  tliought  it  miglit 
be  her  mother.     How  like — how  very  like  ! 

She  ordered  her  cobs  to  go  and  look  after  tlie  gar- 
den and  the  boy,  after  providing  her  father  with  a 
plentiful  supply  of  war-picture  jiapers.  He  delighted 
in  reading  about  the  gallantry  shown  by  our  blue- 
jackets especially,  and  shed  tears  of  love  in  his  heart  at 
being  unable  any  longer  to  be  one  of  them. 

Then  he  began  to  think  that,  though  his  fighting 
days  were  over  he  might  still  do  some  good  service  in 
another  field.  He  might  do  battle  against  the  selfish 
desire  he  had  to  keep  his  daughters  entirely  to  him- 
self. His  determination  to  do  this  made  him  almost 
sorry  that  he  had  said  wliat  he  had  to  Stella  about  St. 
Errol  and  Dalma.  It  was  too  late  now.  St,  Errol 
was  gone. 

While  he  was  fidgeting  himself  into  a  state  of  remorse 
about  the  way  in  which  he  possibly  miglit  have  marred 
the  happiness  for  life  of  one  daughter,  the  other  was 
driving  rapidly  to  The  Hulk.  As  her  groom  got  out 
at  the  entrance,  a  man  on  horseback  rode  np,  and, 
with  a  little  cry  of  surprise  and  pleasure,  she  recog- 
nized Basil  Bentick.  She  got  out  to  walk  up  to  the 
house,  and  Captain  Bentick  dismounted  and  walked  by 
her  side. 

"I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,"  she  said  warmly.  '*  I 
thought  you  were  gone.  But  I  suppose  you  will  soon  be 
off  now  ?  " 

"  Very  soon.  Tiic  day  after  to-monuw  I  sail  fruin 
the  Albert  Docks." 

"  And  St.  Errol  to-morrow  from  Southampton." 


296  Comrades  True. 

They  were  both  silent  and  serions  for  a  few  minutes ; 
after  this  time  he  said  : 

"  I  am  glad  I  have  seen  you  before  I  go,  perhaps 
never  to  come  back  again.  Your  father  would  only  let 
me  see  you  in  his  presence  when  I  called,  and  I  felt 
tongue-tied.     I  want  to  tell  you,  Stella " 

She  held  her  hands  up  in  deprecation  of  his  saying 
more,  but  he  would  not  stop. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you  that  the  splendid  way  you  behaved 
to  me  during  my  brief  illness  made  me  feel  a  better 
fellow  than  I  ever  felt  before.  It  is  a  madness,  I  know, 
that  you  can  never  forget  or  forgive,  and,  as  fitting,  I 
am  the  sole  sufferer  from  it." 

"  You  will  be  very  happy  yet,  Basil  ! " 

*' Never  with  Kathleen  Devoran,  if  that  is  what  you 
mean.  She's  a  dear  little  girl,  and  Fm  fond  of  her,  in 
spite  of  the  way  she  has  spoilt  my  life  with  you.  She 
has  given  me  my  freedom  back,  for  which  I  never  can 
be  thankful  enough.  Oh,  you  needn't  look  doubtful 
and  pained  ;  it  is  true,  and  I  rejoice  at  it." 

"  But  I  don't  understand,"  Stella  said  slowly. 
"Basil,  what  have  you  done  to  make  her  give  you  your 
freedom  ?" 

He  smiled. 

"  Don't  look  tragic  about  it  ;  I  should  have  stuck  to 
her  through  everything  if  she  had  wished  me  to  do  it, 
though  my  doing  it  would  have  been  a  mere  matter  of 
honor.  But  Avhen  she  wrote  and  told  me  she  loved 
another  fellow  better,  and  meant  to  marry  him,  I  don't 
see  that  she  had  very  much  option  in  the  case." 

"  Who  is  the  man  ?  "  Stella  asked. 

"  A  Mr.  Tooney,  the  son  of  the  house  where  she 
is  staying.     She    has   written  and    told    my   aunt  all 


Clearing  the  Air.  297 

about  it.  80  she  is  going  to  be  happy  iu  lier  own 
way." 

**  As  you  will  be  in  yours,  Basil,  I  hope,"  she  said 
kindly. 

"  That  I  never  can  be." 

"  Oh  yes,  you  will  !  You  tell  lue  in  one  breath 
that  you  are  grateful  to  her  for  giving  you  your  free- 
dom, and  iu  the  next  that  you  can  never  be  happy  in 
your  own  way.  I  am  sure  you  will  ;  I  like  you  so  much 
that  iu  the  first  flush  of  my  own  happiness " 

*'  That's  it,  that  is  my  reason.  But  don't  think  me 
altogether  a  selfish  fellow.  I  knew  how  it  was  with 
Stanley  and  you  when  I  saw  you  crossing  the  lawn  from 
the  lake  the  other  day,  and  I  felt  glad  that  I  hadn't  spoilt 
your  life." 

It  was  a  difticult  speech  to  answer,  a  hard  nut  to  crack. 
If  she  said  he  would  not  have  spoilt  her  life  if  he  had 
married  her  as  they  had  once  intended,  that  would  be 
disloyal  to  Stanley.  If  she  said  he  would  have  spoilt 
her  life,  that  would  be  cruel  to  him.  So  she  remained 
silent  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  said  : 

**  I  am  here  as  my  father's  agent  to  inspect  the  garden 
and  the  boy  ;  come  with  me,  and  say  what  ought  to  be 
just  *  up  '  and  just  'in.'" 

He  suggested  that  "  peas  ought  to  be  flourishing  and 
fit  to  eat  ;  he  liad  gallons  of  them  in  London  the  other 
day. 

"  And  we  have  them  at  the  castle  under  glass.  Jiut 
my  father's  gardening  is  conducted  on  more  primitive 
lines.  Oh,  if  he  could  see  the  weeds  running  rampant 
in  this  way  !     I  wonder  where  that  boy  is  ?  " 

The  boy  caught  sight  of  them  as  she  spoke.  lie  was 
sitting  in  the  rays  of  the  spring  sun,  reading  a  j)enny 


298  Comrades  True. 

dreadful  and  eating  nuts.  The  way  the  penny  dreadful 
and  the  nuts  disappeared  and  the  barrow  became  filled 
in  a  moment  with  various  green-stuff,  which  he  knew 
the  young  lady  from  the  castle — as  he  still  called  his 
master's  daughter — would  not  distinguish  from  weeds, 
was  a  lesson  in  sleight-of-hand  that  was  highly  credit- 
able. He  was  always  a  respectful  boy,  and  his  respect- 
fulness deepened  at  the  approach  of  the  young  lady 
from  the  castle.  He  set  off  at  a  sharp  trot  as  soon  as 
he  had  touched  his  tattered  hat  to  Stella  and  her  escort 
two  or  three  times,  and  made  tracks  with  all  speed  to 
the  neatest  part  of  the  garden,  as  intuition  taught  him 
they  would  surely  follow  him.  This  action  may  seem 
mean  on  his  part,  but  it  is  only  human,  after  all,  to 
take  refuge  in  sanctuary  when  in  danger,  and  in  his 
master's  time  he  had  always  found  sanctuary  in  the 
neatest  part  of  the  garden. 

After  she  had  duly  questioned  the  boy  as  to  what  had 
been  planted  and  what  was  coming  up,  Stella  felt  she 
could  go  home  with  a  clear  conscience,  and  relieve  her 
father's  mind  about  his  beloved  garden.  She  was  on 
the  brink  of  saying  to  Basil,  "  Won't  he  be  pleased  ! " 
when  she  remembered  that,  for  more  reasons  than  one, 
Basil  must  not  go  home  with  her  :  farewell  must  be 
said  here  in  the  highroad  in  the  presence  of  the  groom. 

It  was  an  awkAvard  moment,  but,  fortunately,  as 
brief  farewells  are  always  the  best,  the  cobs  began  to 
dance  about  and  show  off  in  a  restive  way  that  was  an 
unspeakable  relief  to  their  mistress. 

''Well,  good-by,  and  God  bless  you  and  bring  you 
safely  home  !  "  she  said  ;  and  then  that  parting  was 
over. 

Stella  went   straight  to  her   father's   sanctum,  and 


Clearing  the  Air.  299 

found  him  witli  an  open  telograni  in  his  liand.  Her 
prophetic  soul  told  her  at  once  that  it  was  from  lier 
sister,  and  that  the  cat  was  out  of  the  bag. 

*' Well,  dad,  the  garden  isn't  looking  half  bad,  and 
the  boy  seemed  to  be  very  busy  when  we  got  there  ; 
he  had  a  barrow  full  of  weeds " 

"  Who's  '  we  '  ?  "  her  father  interrupted. 

"  Captain  Bentick.  He  met  me  at  the  gate,  and 
walked  in  with  me.     Tie's  off  South  directly." 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?" 

He  held  the  telegram  out  to  her  as  he  spoke,  and 
she  took  it  with  a  beating  heart.  It  was  very  brief, 
merely  this  : 

"  Will  certainly— S.  E.  Dalma." 

"It  means  tliat  I  wired  to  my  sister  to  go  and  see 
St.  Errol." 

**  And  why  did  you  do  that  ?  ''  her  father  asked. 

"  Because  I  love  them  both,  and  want  to  see  them 
botli  liappy." 

"So  do  I,  Stella.  I've  tliouglit  about  many  things 
since  you  and  I  spoke  about  this  last.  You  were  a  good 
girl  to  do  it — a  good,  brave,  unselfish  girl,  just  like  your 
mother." 

He  looked  up  at  his  wife's  portrait  as  he  spoke,  bow- 
ing his  heatl  as  he  did  so,  as  a  worshiper  before  the 
imago  of  a  saint. 

Stella  was  too  happy  not  to  be  magnanimous. 

The  concession  her  father  had  made  about  her  sister 
was  such  a  great  one  that  Stella  felt  she  could  not  put 
a  further  strain  upon  liis  feelings  by  speaking  to  him 
about  Staidey  and  hcrtjclf.  Tlicre  was  no  need  to  hurry. 
They  had  each  other's  society  constantly — or,  at  least. 


300  Comrades  True. 

they  would  have  it  as  soon  as  Stanley  came  back  from 
wishing  St.  Errol  God-speed  ;  and  in  the  meantime 
why  should  she  not  have  Mrs.  Ogilvie  ? 

She  wrote,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  a  warmly- 
worded,  loving  request  that  her  old  friend  would  come 
and  hear  the  good  news  and  rejoice  with  her.  Of 
course,  she  had  to  wait  three  days,  for  Mrs.  Ogilvie  was 
not  sufficiently  modern  to  telegraph  about  everything, 
whether  it  were  of  sufficient  importance  to  warrant 
doing  so  or  not. 

AVhen  the  answer  did  come,  there  was  a  paragraph  in 
it  which  exercised  Stella's  curiosity  greatly.  It  ran  as 
follows  :  \ 

"  I  will  come  in  a  week.  At  present  I  am  under- 
going a  very  peculiar  experience,  and  am  placed  on  the 
horns  of  a  dilemma.  Where  those  horns  will  toss  me 
I  do  not  know  in  the  least." 

"  What  can  it  be  ?  "  Stella  conjectured,  "  Can  Puck 
have  died  of  fatty  degeneration  of  the  heart,  or  is  Jem 
leaving  her  ?  The  latter  would,  of  course,  be  the  greater 
calamity  of  the  two." 

But  though  she  spoke  thus  lightly  about  it  to  her 
father,  in  her  heart  she  felt  that  it  must  be  something 
much  more  important  which  kept  her  old  friend  away 
from  her  now. 

The  meeting  between  Mrs.  Clifford  and  St.  Errol  was 
such  a  pretty  one.  It  was  so  unexpected  on  his  part, 
and  on  hers  it  was  so  full  of  conflicting  emotions — joy 
at  seeing  him,  grief  at  his  going,  and  fear  that  ho  would 
think  her  unwomanly  for  having  followed  him.  Around 
them  all  was  bustle  and  confusion,  heart-rending  fare- 
wells mingled  with  tender  pleas  and  triumphant  prog- 


Clearing  the  Air.  301 

nostications  of  glory  from  frieiuls  of  those  going  to  the 
'ront. 

But  withal  it  was  so  brief.  She  seemed  to  have  been 
on  board  hardly  a  minute  when  the  cry  ''All  visitors 
off  I  "  was  raised  ;  then  one  grip  of  the  hand,  one  eager, 
hungry  look  into  each  other's  eyes,  and  then  she  was 
hustled  over  the  side,  and  the  unavowed  lovers  were 
separated  without  a  linking  word. 

She  did  not  realize  until  she  found  herself  in  the 
railway  carriage  that  Stanley  was  with  her,  and  then 
she  knew  tliat  it  must  liave  been  he  who  had  half  car- 
ried her  along,  and  lifted  her  into  the  carriage. 

"How  weak  you  must  think  me  !"  she  said,  with  a 
wan  smile. 

"Weak,  Dalma — no,  but  very  womanly," 

Then,  to  divert  her  thoughts,  he  told  her  about  the 
full  understanding  which  had  been  arrived  at  between 
Stella  and  himself.  lie  told  her  that  business  would 
keep  him  in  town  for  some  little  time — news  that  de- 
lighted her,  as  her  own  engagements  would  detain  her 
in  London  for  yet  another  fortnight.  How  these  en- 
gagements poured  in  upon  her  now  that  she  Avas  pros- 
I)erou.3 !  It  was  another  case  in  point  of  the  truth  of 
that  line  in  the  parable,  "Unto  him  wlio  hath  shall  be 
given." 

****** 

Meanwhile  the  Tooneys  were  having  a  trying  time  of 
it.  Nothing  that  tiiey  could  say  or  do  would  induce 
Larry  to  be  an  attentive  lover  of  Miss  O'Shea,  and  they 
could  not  blame  or  accuse  Kathleen  of  having  a  hand 
in  this  negligence  of  her.  She  never  saw  him  alone, 
and  when  she  saw  him  in  company  she  appeared  to  be 
absorbed  in  her  own  rellections  and  projects. 


302  Comrades  True. 

The  duties  of  his  office  were  so  onerous  just  now, 
Larry  pleaded,  wlien  his  mother  rebuked  him  for  his 
neglec  of  hh fiancee,  that  he  really  had  no  time  to  dance 
attendance  on  any  girl. 

''But  your  future  wife  is  not  'any'  girl.  Just 
think  of  what  you'll  owe  her  !  " 

"  She'll  take  care  that  I  never  forget  it,  I  fancy.'' 

"  She's  so  fond  of  you,  Larry." 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  her  fondness  won't  be  the  worst 
part  of  it.  Now,  don't  tell  me  that  I  have  only  myself 
to  thank  for  all  this,  mother.  It's  bad  enough  to  have 
to  go  through  it  without  that." 

"  She  wants  you  to  drive  her  out  to-day." 

"  It's  the  busiest  day  in  the  week  forme." 

"You  always  say  that." 

'*  Where  are  the  girls  ?  " 

"Doreen  and  Kathleen  are  out  walking." 

''  What  is  she  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  She  won't  tell  us." 

Larry  went  and  stood  at  the  window,  and  drummed 
upon  it  with  his  fingers.  When  he  turned  round  at 
last  there  was  a  suspicious  redness  round  his  eyes  that 
made  his  mother's  heart  ache. 

"  Can  you  take  Miss  O'Shea  and  your  sisters  to  the 
theater  to-night  ?  " 

"Can't  possibly.  I'm  dining  with  some  of  the  gar- 
rison fellows  to  celebrate  the  relief  of  Kimberley," 

As  he  spoke  the  door  opened,  and  Miss  O'Shea  walked 
in.  He  rose  to  meet  her,  and  she  held  her  face  up  en- 
ticingly to  be  kissed.  He  just  brushed  her  forehead 
with  his  mustache,  took  out  his  watch,  and  murmured 
something  about  having  had  no  idea  "  it  was  so  late." 

*'  I've  bought  a  pair  of  carriage-horses  this  morning, 


Clearing  tlic  Air.  303 

Larry.     Come  for  ;i  drive,  uiul  tell  me  liow  you  like 

them." 

He  repeated  his  excuses,  and  as  Miss  0 'Shea's  plain 

brow  clouded,  his  mother  discreetly  left  the  room. 
*'  lIow  busy  you  always  are  now,  Larry  ! '' 
"I  am,  and  with  me  business  has  always  come  before 

pleasure."    Then,  with  something  of  a  sneer,  he  quoted 

the  old  lines  :  "  Li  fact, 

"  '  I  could  not  love  thee,  dear,  so  well, 
Loved  I  uot  honor  more.'  " 

She  tried  to  look  pleased,  and  failed. 

**  I  wanted  you  very  much  this  morninir,  Larry.  I 
am  beginning  to  think  my  coachman  is  not  of  the 
steadiest,  and  these  horses  arc  young  and  fresh." 

He  could  not  refuse  to  go  with  her  after  that,  and 
went  off  with  a  look  such  as  a  man  might  wear  on  his 
way  to  execution. 

Twice  in  the  course  of  their  drive  they  met  or  passed 
Kate  and  Doreen.  The  former  bowed  and  smiled  so 
affably  that  the  heiress  hated  lier  more  than  ever.  If 
Kate  liad  looked  glum  and  unhappy,  ^liss  O'Sliea  would 
have  experienced  all  those  delightful  sensations  which 
do  animate  the  hearts  of  some  women. 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  a  grand  thing  to  be  nuirried  on  St. 
Patrick's  Day,  Larry  !  I  should  carry  a  huge  bouquet 
of  shamrock." 

"  I  thought  brides  Avorc  nothing  but  wliite  ?" 

"  My  going-away  dress  will  be  lovely.  I  sent  to  Paris 
for  it." 

**  Aren't  you  afraid  of  its  being  old-fashioned  before 
you  wear  it  ?  " 


304  Comrades  True. 

"  Not  at  all,"  she  said  sharply  ;  and  he  was  aware  he 
had  made  a  mistake. 

^' I  meant,"  he  explained,  "that  you  fashionable 
ladies  look  upon  a  dress  as  old-fashioned  a  week  after 
it's  made." 

"  I  am  not  changeable,"  she  said  significantly  ;  and 
he  told  her  he  felt  sure  of  that. 

He  accompanied  her  to  her  own  door,  which  was 
opened  by  a  plush-legged  and  powdered  footman, 
whom  he  hated  already,  regarding  him  as  a  badge  of 
his  servitude.  Then,  at  last,  she  released  him,  and 
he  went  back  to  his  chambers  and  his  delicious 
freedom. 

When  he  saw  his  mother  the  following  day,  she  had 
a  great  piece  of  news  for  him.  Kathleen  Devoran  had 
left  to  return  to  England,  to  live  with  and  be  the 
adopted  child  of  a  rich  and  kind  old  lady,  whose  name 
Kathleen  did  not  know  yet. 

"  I  hope  no  one  is  setting  a  trap  for  her,  the  dear 
little  girl,"  Larry  said  menacingly. 

"  Why  had  he  sold  his  right  to  protect  and  look  after 
her  ?  "  he  asked  himself. 

"  She  says  it's  through  some  lawyer,  but  I  forget  what 
his  name  is,  too." 

"  So  we  have  let  her  go  out  into  the  world  more  friend- 
less and  forlorn  than  when  she  came  to  us." 

Mrs.  Tooney  sighed. 

"  It  can't  be  helped,"  she  said  ;  and  he  had  to  ac- 
quiesce in  the  saying,  hard  as  it  was. 

Naturally,  when  Mr.  Tooney  came  home  he  blamed 
everybody  but  himself  with  much  bitterness. 

"She  has  eloped  ?    Who's  the  fellow  ?"  he  asked. 

"  There  is  no  fellow  in  the  case.     There  was  truth  in 


Clearing  the  Air.  305 

her  face  when  she  tokl  mo  she  was  going  to  live  with  a 
rich  old  lady  who  was  also  kind." 

The  next  thing  Mrs.  Tooney  did  was  to  wire  off  the 
facts  of  the  case  to  the  Benticks. 

This  telegram  pnt  the  dear  old  people  into  an  awful 
panic.  They  pictured  to  themselves  that  Kate  was 
going  to  follow  Basil  to  the  Cape,  where  she  would 
marry  him. 

Instantly  her  thoughts  flew  to  Stella.  The  dear  girl 
would  understand  and  help  them  to  bear  this  bitter  blow. 
And  all  the  time  poor  Kate  was  harmlessly  journeying 
towards  the  new  home  that  had  been  found  for  her. 

She  luid  a  rough  voyage  from  Kingston  to  Holyhead, 
but  it  gave  her  something  to  do  to  battle  against  the 
wind  and  the  waves.  Moreover,  it  is  not  possible  to  be 
depressed  or  lachrymose  about  anything  when  all  your 
time  and  attention  is  given  to  keeping  yourself  on  board 
the  steamer. 

She  was  not  blown  away,  but  her  best  and  only  fur- 
lined  cape  was,  and  that  made  her  extremely  sad  when 
she  thought  about  it  afterwards. 

However,  by  the  time  she  had  reached  London,  and 
made  her  way  to  the  address  given  to  her,  she  had  for- 
gotten her  cloak  in  her  excitement  at  again  seeing  Lon- 
don, which  she  could  not  remember  much  about,  since 
she  was  only  six  months  old  when  she  left  it. 

She  was  safe  in  the  kind  haiuls  of  a  couple  who, 
having  no  children  of  their  own,  were  always  ready  to 
do  kindnesses  to  friendless  boys  and  girls. 

This  one  told  them  her  whole  life's  story,  nothing 
extenuating  and  setting  down  naught  in  malice. 

By  the  time  they  jjartcd  for  tlie  night  tliey  fi-U.  like 
old  friends. 
20 


3o6  Comrades  True. 

"She's  a  dear  little  girl,"  the  Avife  said,  when  she 
rejoined  her  husband,  after  showing  her  guest  her  room. 

"  Seems  so.   But  what  an  extraordinary  coincidence  ! " 

"Ah,  truth  is  stranger  than  fiction,"  the  lady  laughed. 
"  I  hope  she  will  be  here  for  some  time  ;  it  will  be  quite 
a  pleasure  to  me  to  have  a  young  girl  to  take  about  with 
me." 

"  Yes  ;  it  gives  you  such  a  fine  excuse  for  gadding 
about  more  than  you  do  already,"  her  husband  laughed 
good-humoredly. 

"When  Mrs.  Bentick  arrived,  tear-stained  and  trem- 
bling, at  the  castle,  Stella's  first  thought  was  that  some 
calamity  had  happened  to  Basil  ;  but  when  she  had 
heard  the  story  she  was  able  to  completely  reassure  the 
good  lady  by  telling  her  of  her  (Stella's)  last  interview 
Avith  Basil  at  the  Hall. 

His  aunt  cried,  and  murmured  : 

"  How  dreadfully  the  poor  boy   must  have    felt  it  !  " 

"We  both  felt  it." 

"  And  is  it  true  that  you're  engaged  to  Mr.  Stanley  ?  " 

"  It  is  ;  but  I  am  waiting  for  my  sister  to  come  homo 
before  I  tell  my  father." 

"  I  did  hope — I  did  hope " 

''  Please  don't  hope  that,  "  Stella  cried. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

IX     SEARCH     OF     HER. 

"  I  AM  glad  that  the  lioriis  of  the  dileminu  liave  tossed 
you  here,"  Stella  said,  as  she  rushed  into  ^Irs,  Ogilvie's 
extended  arms.  ''And  now  quick,  tell  me  wliat  is  the 
dilemma  ?" 

"As  soon  as  I  have  recovered  my  breath  I  Avill  tell 
3'ou,  and  when  you  hear  what  it  is  you'll  admit  that 
truth  is  stranger  than  fiction.  How  hap}iy  you  look, 
dear  ! " 

*'  Happy  !  I  am  so  happy  that  words  can't  cxjiress 
my  happiness.  You  would  be  the  same  if  you  were  en- 
gaged to  marry  Guy  Stanley." 

**  My  dear  Stella,  please  resjiect  my  gray  liairs. 
Stanley  and  you  might  be  my  grandchildren,  so  I  may 
take  a  grandmother's  pride  and  pleasure  in  you  both. 
How  wonderfully,  how  blessedly,  things  have  worked 
out  for  you,  dear  child  !  " 

"They  have  indeed.  I  have  found  a  father,  sister, 
and  lover  all  at  once,  and  they  are  each  exactly  what  I 
wish  them  to  be — that  is,  perfect.  And  what  a  friend 
I  have  in  you  ! — the  best,  kiiulest,  truest  frieiul  a  girl 
could  have." 

"  I  hope  to  be  the  same  to  another  young  girl  who  is 
truly  in  need  of  a  friend  now,  Stella." 
'  Is  she  your  '  dilemma  ? '  " 


3o8  Comrades  True. 

''She  is — Kathleen  Devoran." 

"  How  did  you  come  to  know  her  ?  When,  where, 
and  why  have  you  taken  her  in  my  place  ?  ^' 

"  Gently,  and  don't  be  impatient  and  unjust.  I  am 
getting  old — in  fact,  I  have  got  old — and  I  love  to 
have  young  life  about  me.  You  who  have  been  as  a 
daughter  to  me  have  formed  new  ties  very  naturally. 
So  one  day,  when  the  sense  of  my  loneliness  was  very 
strong  upon  me,  I  thought  of  trying  to  secure  the  com- 
panionship, and  I  hoped  the  love,  of  some  young  girl 
who  should  be  as  a  daughter  to  me — be  to  me  what  you 
were,  in  fact.  The  ways  of  advertising  were  unknown 
to  me,  so  I  went  to  Mr.  Smithers,  who  had  been  the 
means  of  bringing  us  together,  Stella.  I  told  him  that 
if  he  could  find  a  girl — a  lady — unhampered  by  family 
ties,  I  would  adopt  her  and  treat  her  as  my  own  child 
in  every  way." 

Mrs.  Ogilvie  paused,  being  a  little  out  of  breath. 
Stella's  attitude  of  silent,  intent  listening  was  not 
encouraging.  As  Mrs.  Ogilvie  ceased  speaking,  jealous 
Stella  put  in  the  words  rather  sharply  : 

"  And  he  found  Miss  Devoran  for  you  ?  " 

"  He  advertised,  and  the  reply  to  the  advertisement 
that  struck  and  pleased  him  most  came  from  Miss 
Devoran.  She  described  herself  graphically  as  home- 
less, friendless,  and  forlorn." 

"  What  nonsense  !  "  Stella  said  energetically.  "  She 
jilted  Basil  Bentick  for  an  Irishman  who,  in  turn,  has 
jilted  her  for  a  girl  with  money-bags.  Have  you  got 
her  at  the  cottage  ?  has  she  taken  possession  of  you  and 
all  belonging  to  you  already  ? '' 

"  She  is  staying  with  Mrs.  Smithers  until  I  can  go 
back  and  make  a  home  for  her." 


In  Search  of  Her,  309 

**  Have  yon  seen  her  ?    Do  yon  like  her  ?  " 

*'I  huve  only  seen  her  once,  and  I  like  her  very 
mneh.  !Slie  bared  her  poor  little  heart  to  me  during 
our  brief  interview." 

"  And  you'll  be  as  fond  of  her  as  you  are — as  you 
ivere — of  nie.  I  shall  never  like  her.  I  shall  never 
forgive  her  for  having  taken  my  place  with  you." 

"  Yes,  you  will,  dear.  You  forgave  her  when  she 
took  your  place  witii  Basil  Bentick." 

"  Yes  ;  I  didn't  feel  a  bit  jealous  then,"  Stella  said 
dispassionately.  "But  this  is  different.  You  have 
been  like  a  mother,  and  now  this  girl  steps  in  and  will 
rob  me  of  a  lot  of  your  motherly  love." 

"  She  will  not  rob  you  of  a  bit  of  it." 

**  Guy  Stanley  and  I  had  arranged  that  we  would 
take  a  house  close  to  yours  in  town,  and  that  when  we 
go  out  of  town  we  should  spend  our  time  at  the  cottage 
with  you." 

"That  arrangement  meets  my  views  exactly,  dear 
child." 

*'  No,  no  ;  it  can't  hold  good  now.   I  am  supplanted." 

**  Guy  Stanley  and  you  will  not  rest  contented  for 
long  with  migrating  between  London  and  the  cottage. 
And  wlien  yon  are  away  from  me  you  will  be  glad  to 
think  that  I  have  someone  wlio  will  look  after  me,  and 
Ite  kind  and  sympathetic." 

"  What  makes  you  think  she  will  be  kind  and  sympa- 
thetic ?  " 

"  What  made  me  think  you  would  be  these  things 
when  I  saw  you  first,  dear  ?  It  was  your  face,  your 
voice,  your  manner.  I  saw  that  in  you  heart  and  head 
were  blfndcd  so  perfectly  that  if  wo  didn't  lit  the  fault 
would  be  mine." 


3 10  Comrades  True. 

"  And  you  see  all  this  in  her  ?"  Stella  cried.  'Oh, 
it  is  hard,  horribly  hard,  that  yon  should  be  prepared  to 
love  Kathleen  Devoran  as  well  as  you  do  me  !" 

"As  you  reminded  yourself  and  me  just  now,  you 
have  found  a  father,  sister,  and  lover  all  at  once.  You 
can  well  afford  to  let  me  give  a  little  affection  to  a  girl 
who  is  left  without  relations  or  friends.  Think  of  her 
desolate  position  !  " 

Stella  nearly  melted,  but  she  steeled  herself  against 
the  softer  mood  which  she  felt  was  approaching,  and 
made  an  effort  to  deal  one  more  blow  at  the  enemy. 

"  If  she  had  behaved  honorably,  and  stuck  to  Basil 
Bentick,  she  would  have  been  one  of  their  family,  and 
had  plenty  of  friends  by  this  time." 

"  And  now  take  me  to  see  your  father,"  Mrs.  Ogilvie 
said  good-temperedly.  ''A  good  talk  about  the  Hall, 
and  the  garden,  and  the  boy  will  do  us  good.^' 

It  did  them  good,  for  Mrs.  Ogilvie  had  come  down 
primed  with  all  sorts  of  little  bits  of  information  con- 
cerning the  war  and  the  ways  of  our  generals  which  had 
not  crept  into  the  newsi^apers.  She  had  many  friends 
at  the  front,  and  these  had  managed  to  let  her  know 
why  Methuen  had  seemed  to  lag,  and  why  Plumer  had 
retreated  when  within  fourteen  miles  of  Mafeking. 
She  had  also  friends  who  had  lived  in  the  Transvaal  for 
many  years,  and  who  knew  the  Boers  to  the  marrow  of 
their  bones.  It  was  first-hand  information  that  she 
gave  them,  and  her  graphic  description  of  the  brutality, 
ignorance,  dirt,  and  general  squalor  of  the  average  Boer 
was  intensely  interesting  to  a  man  in  whose  breast  the 
fire  of  patriotism  had  always  burnt  fiercely. 

"  It's  an  awful  thing  for  a  man  to  be  '  too  old '  to 
fight  for  his  Queen  and   country   when   every   bit  of 


In  Search  of  Her.  311 

fighting  blood  in  him  is  up  iind  stirring,"  he  said 
piteously  ;  and  Stelhi  tried  to  comfort  him  by  a  gentle 
reminder  of  his  broken  leg.  "  If  they  would  only  let 
me  go  to  the  front,  I  would  go  on  crutches,"  he  said  ; 
and  he  meant  it,  too,  dear  old  war-dog  that  he  was. 

"  I  hope  St.  Errol  will  come  back  safe  and  un- 
wounded,"  Stella  ventured  to  suggest. 

The  picture  of  her  father  hobbling  to  the  war  ou 
crutches  had  nearly  made  her  laugh,  but  she  saved  her- 
self from  this  disgrace  by  thinking  of  St.  Errol  possibly 
wounded  and  thirsty  under  a  scorching  sun  or  a  blind- 
ing rain. 

''What's  a  wound  or  two  to  a  young  fellow  like  St. 
Errol  ?  "  her  father  answered  sharply.  **  lie  is  made 
of  the  metal  that  is  always  to  the  fore,  if  I  am  not  much 
mistaken  about  him.  lie  will  do  and  dare  everything 
that  a  gentleman  and  a  man  should  do  and  dare." 

**  And  if  he  is  killed,  Dalma  will  die.  Think  of  that, 
father." 

"  Women  who  love  heroes  must  share  the  hero's  fate. 
St.  Errol  will  live  distinguished  or  die  distinguished. 
There  is  nothing  half-hearted  about  him.  lie  is  mado 
of  the  material  that  would  walk  into  a  den  of  lions,  or  go 
out  unaccompanied  into  a  region  where  the  Boers  are 
lurking  behind  every  stone  of  their  stone-planted  veldt." 

"  Oh,  father,  father  !  why  wasn't  I  born  a  boy  ?  I 
would  80  love  to  fight!"  eager  Stella  cried,  with  en- 
thusiasm ;  and  her  father  understood  her. 

'*  You  were  not  born  a  boy,  my  child  ;  but  some  day 
you  will  be  the  mother  of  a  son  of  whom  it  will  bo  said, 
"  She  must  be  a  noble  mother  to  have  borne  so  brave  a 


son 


t " 


312  Comrades  True. 

The  Tooneys  were  breakfasting  quietly  and  comfort- 
ably. Kate  Devorau's  abrupt  exit  had  ceased  to  dis- 
quiet them.  Mr.  Tooney  spoke  of  her  as  unpractical, 
unreasonable,  and  ungrateful.  Mrs.  Tooney  pitied  her 
a  great  deal,  and  loved  her  a  little,  because  she  (Kate) 
had  loved  Larry  Tooney.  And  as  Larry  Tooney  was 
the  apple  of  his  mother's  eye,  she  was  well  inclined 
to  forgive  Kate's  weakness.  The  two  Miss  Tooneys 
thought  it  rather  a  good  joke,  and  laughed  about  it. 

"  Larry  was  such  a  lad,"  they  said  ;  '^  no  girl  ought 
to  have  taken  him  seriously." 

''  Miss  O'Shea  is  going  to  give  Larry  such  a  lovely 
present  to-day,  mother — a  pair  of  Arab  horses,  and  a 
double  dogcart  that  she  has  had  built  in  Long  Acre. 
She  has  given  a  hundred  apiece  for  the  Arabs,  and  he 
will  drive  them  tandem,  and  there  will  be  no  one  in 
Dublin  to  touch  him." 

Doreen  was  the  speaker,  and  she  turned  such  a 
proud,  happy  face  towards  her  mother  that  the  latter 
felt  a  bit  of  real  joy  as  she  answered  : 

"  My  poor  boy  !  it  seems  to  me  that  Miss  O'Shea  is 
buying  him." 

**  She  is  paying  a  handsome  price,  any  way.  Of 
course,  Larry  is  Larry,  and  good  enough  to  be  tlie 
consort  of  a  queen.  But  then,  you  see,  mother  dear, 
queens  haven't  come  in  his  way,  and  Miss  O'Shea  and 
her  thousands  have.  Be  happy  about  Larry  ;  his  will 
be  a  path  of  roses." 

Before  Mrs,  Tooney  could  answer  her  eloquent 
daughter  a  note  was  brought  in. 

"  From  Mr.  Lawrence,  ma'am,  and  there  is  no 
answer  required,"  the  servant  said  ;  and  with  a  heart 
that  stood  still  for  a  moment,  and  then   nearly   beat 


In  Search  of  Her.  313 

out   of   licr   body,  Mrs.  Tooncy  opeued  the  letter  and 
read  : 

*'  Deakf.st  Mother, 

"  I  am  off  to  England  by  tlie  next  boat  to  find  and 
marry  Kathleen  Devoran.  When  I  liave  found  her  I 
shall  bring  her  to  you,  and  yon,  I  know,  will  take  her 
as  your  daughter.  Until  I  find  her  you  will  not  see 
your  affectionate  sou, 

"  Larry  Tooney." 

His  mother  read  tlie  letter,  then  put  a  trembling 
hand  up  to  a  dazed  brow. 

"  Read  it,  all  of  you,"  she  said,  i>assing  the  letter  to 
the  daughter  who  was  nearest  to  her.  "  Oh,  Larry, 
Larry  I " 

The  others  were  fluent  on  the  subject.  Mr.  Tooney 
took  a  hard  nian-of-the-world  view,  and  begau  con- 
jecturing how  this  wild-goose  chase  after  a  slip  of  a  girl 
would  affect  his  official  position. 

**  If  lie  was  bent  upon  making  an  ass  of  himself, 
why  didn't  he  do  it  by  means  of  an  advertisement  ?" 
he  asked  ;  and  as  no  one  answered  that  question,  he 
askt'd  another  :  "  Whicli  of  you  will  go  and  break  it  to 
Miss  O'Shea  ?  I  wasli  my  hands  of  the  business.  To 
have  such  a  fortune  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  and  to 
throw  it  away  !  Most  likely  she  will  bring  an  action 
for  breach  of  promise  against  him,  and  wliat  will  we 
all  look  like  then,  I  wonder  ?" 

"  Ah,  no,  father  ;  sho  is  not  so  unwomanly  as  that," 
Doreen  said  hotly  ;  and  tiien  Larry's  poor  mother  found 
her  voice,  and  said  : 

**  I  will  go  and  confess  my  son's  offense  to  Miss 
O'Shea." 


314  Comrades  True.  « 

''  No,  no,  mother  !  you  can't  do  it — you're  not  strong 
enough  ;  you  couldn't  stand  the  strain.  It  is  father's 
place  to  do  it,"  both  girls  exclaimed  ;  but  their  mother 
pnt  down  their  opposition  quietly  and  firmly, 

"  I  will  go  and  bear  the  brunt  for  Larry,"  she  said. 
"  He  is  my  own  son,  my  own  boy.  If  his  mother  does 
not  stand  by  him,  who  will  ?" 

There  was  no  one  to  answer  her.  The  father  stormed 
and  the  sisters  cried,  and  so  slie  went  out  to  fight  the 
moral  and  social  battle  for  her  son  alone  and  unaided. 

Miss  O'Shea  had  much  on  her  side.  She  had  wealth 
and  the  consciousness  of  right,  and  these  are  two 
powerful  factors  in  a  social  struggle.  On  the  other 
hand,  Mrs.  Tooney  had  motherly  love,  and  very  little 
else ;  but  motherly  love  was  like  a  well-tempered  sword 
to  her,  and  she  carried  it  and  was  prepared  to  wield  it 
well  when  she  arrived  at  Miss  O'Shea's  handsome  well- 
kept  residence. 

"  Have  you  heard  of  the  present  I'm  going  to  give 
Larry  this  day  ? '"'  the  millionairess  cried,  bounding  as 
she  spoke  into  Mrs.  Tooney 's  arms.  "  A  pair  of  horses 
that  will  make  all  Dublin  stare,  and  such  a  dog- 
cart ! " 

"  You  are  a  kind,  good,  generous  girl,"  Mrs.  Tooney 
said  gravely,  "  and  your  generosity  will  be  severely 
taxed  now  and  at  once.     Have  you  heard  from  Larry  ?  " 

*'  I  have  a  note  from  him  somewhere.  I  haven't 
opened  it  yet.  Come  out  with  me  to  the  stable-yard, 
and  see  the  new  horses. " 

''  Before  we  do  that,  dear,  read  Larry's  note." 

''  Oh,  it's  probably  only  an  excuse  for  not  driving 
out  with  me  to-day.  Why  don't  you  seem  more 
cheerful  ?     I  bear  with  Larry's  neglect  while  all  Dublin 


In  Search  of  Her.  315 

is  speaking  of  the  way  lie  slights  me.  Why  can't  you 
bear  it,  too  ?  " 

**  lie  is  my  son,  and  I  have  a  sorry  truth  to  tell  you 
about  him." 

"  Tell  it  quickly." 

'*'  lie  has  gone  to  find  Kathleen  Dcvoran." 

Miss  O'Shea  waited  a  few  moments  before  she  spoke 
in  answer  to  this  ;  then  she  said  : 

"  And  when  the  honorable  gentleman  has  found  her, 
what  more  ?  " 

"  He  will  marry  her." 

"  And  I  will  wish  him  joy  of  his  pauper  bride.  But 
now,  look  here,  Mrs.  Tooney  :  I  have  loved  Larry  ; 
that's  all  over,  but  I  like  him  as  well.  Uis  wild-goose 
chase  after  the  girl  he  really  loves  will  be  of  no  avail. 
But  I  will  pay  the  best  detectives  in  London  to  find 
her  for  him,  and  when  they  have  found  her  he  will  re- 
alize what  a  woman's  friendship  is.  There  is  only  one 
thing  in  tlie  whole  miserable  business  that  I  lament, 
and  that  is  that  he  didn't  come  and  tell  me  all  this 
himself.  I  would  have  been  such  a  stanch  friend 
to  him  !  I  am  that  now,  but  there  would  have 
been  a  little  pleasure  in  the  pain  if  he  liad  trusted 
me." 

"  I  can't  defend  my  boy,"  said  Mrs.  Tooney  ;  ''  all  I 
can  ask  is  that  you  will  forgive  him." 

Miss  O'Shea  thought  for  a  moment  or  two  ;  tlien  a 
comforting  reflection  came  to  her  aid,  aiul  she  said 
generously  : 

"  Lord  Tanton's  l^rothcr  proposed  to  me  the  week 
after  Larry  did.  Lord  Tanton  has  no  cliildren,  and  liia 
brother  is  the  heir-presumptive.  I  siiouldn't  wonder  if 
I  nuirried  him." 


3i6  Comrades  True. 

'^  To  think  of  her  taking  vip  with  Tanton's  brother 
after  my  boy  I"  the  mother  thought;  but  she  wisely 
held  her  tongue,  while  Miss  O'Shea  went  on  expatia- 
ting on  the  glory  of  the  Tantons. 

****** 

Larry  Tooney  started  on  his  quest  for  Kathleen 
Devoran  with  very  poor  hopes  of  finding  her.  But  it 
happened,  as  things  often  happen  in  real  life,  that  he 
embarked  on  the  same  boat  that  had  carried  her  across 
several  days  before. 

The  boat  was  a  bit  untidy,  for  they  had  been  ex- 
periencing rough  weather.  As  luck  would  have  it,  he 
was  given  the  same  state  cabin  in  which  Kathleen  had 
passed  a  few  miserable  hours,  and  there  he  found  a  scrap 
of  paper  on  which,  in  Kathleen's  handwriting,  was 
Mr.  Smither's  name  and  address. 

This  was  enough  for  a  lover  and  an  Irishman. 

Armed  with  it,  he  felt  that  he  could  face  a  thousand 
foes,  and  find  her.  But  natural  forces  seemed  to  fight 
against  him.  Midway  between  Kingston  and  Holyhead 
they  were  befogged,  and  came  into  collision  with  a  much 
bigger  steamer.  The  boat  Larry  Tooney  was  on  was 
so  disabled  that  she  had  to  slowly  crawl  back  on  the 
face  of  rather  tempestnous  waters  to  Kingston  ;  Avhile 
he,  in  impotent  rage,  had  to  suffer  and  be  still. 


CHAPTEPx  XXXir. 


LARKY    TRIUMPHS. 


When  Mr.  Lawrence  Tooiiey  readied  London,  he  had 
a  well-detined  purpose  in  his  mind.  It  was  to  find 
Kathleen  Devoran,  and  persuade  her  to  marry  him  at 
once.  The  little  scrap  of  paper  which  he  had  found 
gave  him  the  name  only  of  Smithers,  but  there  was  no 
address.  However,  he  remembered  that  his  mother  had 
told  him  that  Kathleen  had  said  she  was  going  first  to 
the  lawyer  who  had  advertised  on  behalf  of  the  rich  and 
kind  lady  who  wanted  to  adopt  a  girl  and  be  as  a  mother 
to  her.  Through  the  directory  he  knew  that  he  could 
get  the  addresses  of  all  the  Smithers  in  London,  liowever 
numerous  they  might  be.  Fortified  by  tliis  knowledge, 
he  became  quite  cheerful.  The  only  depressing  reflec- 
tion ho  had,  in  fact,  was  that  his  ''  mother  would  have 
a  tight  time  of  it  when  she  broke  the  news  of  his  de- 
fection to  Miss  O'Shea."  Which  shows  that,  thougii 
Larry  had  very  good  knowledge  of  human  nature,  and 
was  a  fairly  good  judge  of  it,  he  had  yet  to  learn  that  a 
woman  may  be  })lain  and  at  the  same  time  magnanimous. 

True  to  this  resolve,  he  went  to  a  good  hotel,  whero 
he  was  sure  of  finding  the  latest  directory.  His  heart 
sank  wlien  he  came  upon  Smithers,  but  none  of  thom 
bearing  the  initials  which  he  had  found  on  the  scrap  of 

in 


3i8  Comrades  True. 

paper.  At  last  he  turned  a  page,  and  there  they  were. 
"Practically  I  have  found  her  now,"  he  said  to  him- 
self ;  and  then  he  was  able  to  enjoy  the  news  and  his 
dinner,  neither  of  which  had  held  any  interest  for  him 
for  some  days. 

Meantime,  poor  Kathleen,  though  she  felt  she  had 
burnt  her  boats  behind  her,  could  not  help  feeling 
heart-sore  at  there  being  no  effort  made  to  find  her. 
The  Smithers  were  more  than  kind  to  her,  and  Mrs. 
Ogilvie,  in  the  one  interview  she  had  had  with  that 
lady,  had  been  motherly. 

But  for  all  this — and  it  was  much  in  her  friendless 
life — Kathleen  could  not  forget  Larry  Tooney.  Perhaps 
she  clung  to  him,  or,  rather,  to  the  memory  of  him,  the 
more  closely  because  she  knew  she  had  wronged  another 
man  for  his  sake.  She  had  made  a  sacrifice  for  Larry, 
and  a  woman  generally  loves  the  one  best  for  whom  she 
has  sacrificed  something. 

However,  despite  these  saddening  thoughts,  Kathleen 
continued  to  extract  a  good  deal  of  passing  enjoyment 
from  the  novelty  of  the  sights  and  amusements  to  which 
she  was  taken.  The  theaters,  concerts,  and  the  parks 
were  the  forms  of  change  and  gaiety  which  she  preferred, 
and,  like  all  of  us  with  Irish  blood  in  our  veins,  she  had 
a  deep-rooted  and  passionate  love  of  all  kinds  of  music 
and  melody,  both  grave  and  gay,  also  of  color  and 
dramatic  representations,  and,  it  need  scarcely  be  added, 
of  horses.  For  London  society,  as  seen  at  "'  at  homes" 
and  bazaars,  she  had  no  liking.  Their  Avays  were  not 
hers,  their  habits  were  unknown  to  lier,  and  so  slie  felt 
an  outsider  among  them.  But  if  she  could  spend  an 
hour  in  the  morning  in  the  Row  watching  the  riders 
and  horses,  go  to  a  concert  in  the  afternoon,  and  to  a 


Larry  Triumphs.  319 

theater  in  the  evening,  she  was  quite  content  to  dine 
alone  when  the  Smithers  were  going  out  to  dine,  tliough 
most  of  their  friends  soon  knew  and  invited  the  ''  i>retty 
Miss  Dovoran,"'  whose  presence  in  their  house  soon  in- 
creased Mrs.  Smithers'  social  popularit}-. 

At  one  of  tliese  concerts  Dalma  sang,  and  slie  was 
pointed  out  to  Kathleen  hy  ^Irs.  Smithers,  who  knew 
nothing  of  the  girl's  love-story. 

"  That  is  Mrs.  Clifford,  the  sister  of  the  lovely  Miss 
St.  Errol.  Both  sisters  have  lived  romances.  I'll  tell 
you  all  about  them  one  day." 

*'  AVhy,  she's  as  lovely  as  her  sister,"  said  Kathleen. 

**  Have  you  ever  seen  Miss  St.  Errol  ?  '' 

"Yes,  once,  when  I  landed  in  England.  It  was  just 
after  my  father's  death,  and  I  didn't  think  much  about 
any  one  else  at  the  time  ;  but  I  saw  she  was  lovely." 

Mrs.  Smithers,  though  she  was  a  lawyer's  wife,  was 
not  mucli  given  to  putting  two  and  two  together.  She 
had  no  suspicion  of  there  being  anything  behind  Kath- 
leen's statement. 

But  when  the  concert  was  over  and  they  were  driving 
home  she  told  Kathleen  that  "  Mrs.  Ogilvie  had  gone 
down  to  Errol  Castle  to  stay  with  ]\Iiss  St.  Errol  for  a 
fortnight.  When  she  comes  back,  she  will  be  able  to 
tell  you  much  more  about  them  than  I  can." 

"  And  she  will  have  heard  much  more  about  me  than 
you  can  tell  her,"  Kathleen  thought  a  little  nervously. 

"  Is  it  any  use  my  begging  you  to  go  to  this  dinner 
to-night,  my  dear  ?  " 

Kathleen  shook  her  head. 

"None  at  all,"  she  said  ;  "besides,  1  have  already 
refused  through  you." 

"That  is  nothing.     A  note  from  ^frH,   Daubeiiy  this 


320  Comrades  True. 

morning  tells  me  that  she  shall  keep  your  place  open  to 
the  last,  and  then  if  yon  ivon't  go  she  will  have  one  of 
her  young  daughters  down." 

''  I  would  rather  stay  at  home/'  Kathleen  pleaded, 
and  her  plea  was  granted. 

She  had  finished  her  little  dinner  alone,  and  was  look- 
ing through  some  of  the  magazines  and  journals  with 
which  Mrs.  Smithers'  tables  were  lavishly  strewn,  when 
there  came  a  sounding  knock  at  the  front-door  which, 
for  a  moment,  set  her  heart  beating.  Then  she  told 
herself  that  it  could  only  be  one  of  Mr.  Smithers'  clients, 
and  went  on  reading. 

But  presently  a  name  was  brought  to  her  that  made 
her  send  the  magazine  flying  to  the  other  end  of  the 
room  ;  and  in  a  moment  or  two  Larry  Tooney's  arms 
were  round  her,  and  he  was  calling  her  his  "  dear  little 
wife  that  was  to  be." 

They  had  a  good  deal  to  tell  each  other  about  the 
immediate  past,  and  to  ask  each  other  about  the 
future. 

"  I  shall  be  afraid  to  go  back  to  Dublin.  I  don't  think 
I  could  face  Miss  O'Shea.  And  your  people  will  break 
my  heart  if  they  look  crossly  at  me  for  this." 

*'My  mother  and  sisters  will  never  look  crossly  at 
you  ;  of  that  you  may  be  sure.  As  for  Miss  O'Shea,  I 
can't  flatter  myself  it  was  a  very  deep-rooted  affection. 
She  will  meet  many  a  fellow  she  will  like  better  in  the 
course  of  a  little  time.     Now,  you  never  would." 

"  No,  I  never  should,"  Kate  said  gravely,  and  she 
meant  it. 

"  At  the  same  time,  I  think  it  just  as  well  that  we 
should  be  married  in  London,  and  go  back  as  man  and 
wife  to  bear  the  brunt  of  the  battle  alone.     I  have  no 


Larry  Triumphs.  321 

donbt  these  kind  friends  of  yours  will  let  you  stay  with 
them  till  we  can  arrange  it.  And  I'll  get  my  mother 
and  sisters  over  to  the  wedding." 

*'  It  does  seem  all  so  strange  and  sudden.  I  thought 
I  had  lost  you  forever  only  this  morning,  and  now  wo 
are  talking  of  being  married.  AVhat  a  deceitful  girl 
Mrs.  Smithers  will  think  me  I  " 

He  was  on  the  brink  of  saying,  *'Xever  mind  what 
any  one  thinks,"  but  it  struck  him  that  might  sound  un- 
grateful to  those  who  had  befriended  his  darling 
while  she  was  a  maiden  all  forlorn,  so  he  substituted  the 
words,  "  I  will  tell  them  what  you  are— the  dearest  girl 
in  the  world,  till  you  ran  away  from  me.  There  must 
be  no  more  of  that,  young  lady." 

"  There  shall  not  be,  Larry,"  she  said  almost  hum- 
bly ;  and  Larry  smiled  the  proud  and  happy  smile  of  a 
conqueror  in  a  proud  and  honorable  field. 

There  was  great  rejoicing  in  the  Smithers'  establish- 
ment when  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smithers  came  home  from 
that  dinner,  to  which  Kathleen  now  felt  she  had  "  provi- 
dentially refused  to  go."  But  in  feeling  this  she  hardly 
did  justice  to  the  tenacity  of  her  lover.  If  she  had 
gone  he  would  have  followed  her  there,  and  set  lier 
mind  and  his  own  at  rest  before  either  of  them  slept 
that  night, 

"  We  shall  have  to  find  a  new  daughter  for  ilrs. 
Ogilvie,  but  we  can  )iever  find  one  to  come  up  to  Stella 
and  Kathleen,"  Mrs.  Smithers  said  to  her  husband  that 
night. 

*'  And  I  don't  tliink  we'll  try,"  he   replied.     "  These 

surprises  sprung  on  one,  on  one's  own  hearthstone,  are 

rather  starlling  to  a  man  of   my  age  and  calling.     For 

the  next  few  days  I  shall  live    in  dread  of  some  of  my 

21 


322  Comrades  True. 

best  clients  coming  in  and  telling  me  that  they    are  not 
themselves  but  somebody  else." 

"  How  very  strange  !  Now  I  have  quite  enjoyed  this 
little  episode,"  Mrs.  Smithers  said  cheerfully  ;  and  she 
fell  asleep  while  making  active  mental  preparations  for 
the  wedding  to  take  place  from  their  house,  for  Larry 
had  told  her  that  he  meant  to  bo  married  in    London. 

^' I  should  like  to  give  her  the  trousseau,"  she  told 
her  husband,  "  but " 

"  But  the  fact  is,  my  dear,  I  expect  you  find  you  owe 
your  dressmaker  too  much  already  to  do  that  conven- 
iently." 

She  laughed  good-humoredly,  like  a  woman  does 
laugh  who  knows  that  her  husband  can  and  will  come 
out  with  the  needful  cheques  in  time. 

''It  is  not  so  much  that  as  it  is  that  I  fear  I  might 
offend  the  proud  little  monkey.  She  has  a  little  money 
and  she  thinks  that  little  will  go  a  long  way." 

Mr.  Smithers  murmured  something  to  the  effect  of  his 
''own  money  matters  being  quite  enough  for  him  to 
tackle,"  while  his  wife  worried  her  heart  with  conjec- 
tures as  to  how  she  could  best  help  the  girl  who  had 
been  thrown  uj)on  her  care. 

"  But  I'll  have  a  talk  with  her  about  her  trousseau 
to-morrow,"  she  resolved,  which  she  did,  and  to  her 
astonishment  she  found  that  Kathleen's  ideas  were  of 
rather  a  magnificent  order. 

"Your  wedding  must  necessarily  be  a  quiet  one. 
Why  not  be  married  in  your  traveling-dress,  and  so 
save  the  expense  of  a  smart  dress  with  a  train  that  you 
very  likely  won't  want  afterwards  ?  " 

"  Larry  says  I  must  be  all  in  white  on  my  wedding- 
day." 


Larry  Triumphs.  323 

'*  So  you  can  be.  There  arc  lovely  materials  now  for 
traveling-dresses.  '* 

"  But  I  had  an  idea,  and  Larry  liked  it.  It  is  white 
Irish  poplin  embroidered  with  silver  slianirocks." 

<*  IIow  much  money  have  you  to  spend,  Kathleen  ?" 

"  Nearly  two  hundred  pounds." 

**  And  your  wedding-dress  will  runaway  with  at  least 
fifty  of  that." 

"Oh  no  I"  Kathleen  cried,  aghast;  but  presently 
she  added  :  *'  You  will  see  how  well  I  shall  manage. 
Larry  says  it  will  be  the  best  economy  for  me  to  get  all 
my  things  from  the  best  houses,  so  I  shall  go  to  Worth 
for  three  tailor-made  dresses." 

Mrs.  Smithcrs  drew  a  long  breath. 

*'  What  is  Mr.  Tooney,  and  what  is  his  income,  may 
I  ask?" 

**I  don't  quite  know.  He  is  not  City  Treasurer. 
One  of  iiis  sisters  told  me  he  was,  but  she  made  a  mis- 
take. But  he  has  a  very  good  civic  apiiointment — I 
don't  know  exactly  what  it  is — and  a  very  good  income 
— I  don't  know  exactly  what  that  is.  But  it  doesn't  much 
matter.  Larry  and  I  are  prepared  to  face  poverty  and 
every  other  ill  if  we  are  only  together." 

Mrs.  Smithers  abstained  from  telling  Kathleen  that 
she  had  heard  that  sentiment  before,  and  known  it 
break  down  in  a  year  under  less  heavy  pressure  than 
these  young  people  were  preparing  for  themselves. 

Daily  now  were  calls  made  upon  the  Smithers'  serv- 
ants to  take  in  and  carry  up-stairs  boxes  from  dressmak- 
ers, from  milliners,  from  corset,  boot,  and  glove  makers, 
which  arrived  hourly  ;  and  Kathleen,  in  the  joy  of  her 
heart  at  bfing  the  possessor  of  so  many  pretty  things, 
would  bring  down  armfuls  of  them  to  show  to  Larry. 


324  Comrades  True. 

Larry  nearly  always  lunched  with  and  frequently 
dined  with  them,  so  his  opinion  could  be  taken  very 
often.  He  nearly  always  advised  Kathleen  to  "  get 
some  more ''  of  anything  that  had  particularly  struck 
him. 

"  I  should  like  to  be  married  by  special  license,"  Larry 
told  Mrs.  Smithers  one  day  ;  ''  but  my  mother  seems 
to  think  it  a  needless  extravagance,  and  I  always  defer 
to  my  mother." 

"  I  think  it  would  be  so  good  if  your  mother  came 
over  at  once,"  she  said  speciously. 

She  herself  was  quite  tired  of  advising  Kathleen,  who 
turned  an  affection-ate  but  disregarding  ear  to  the  advice 
when  it  did  not  meet  her  own  views. 

"  Do  you  know,  I  think  it  would,'^  Larry  acquiesced 
heartily. 

So  he  sent  for  his  mother  to  come  as  soon  as  she  could, 
and  at  once  took  lodgings  for  her  and  himself  in  Ken- 
sington. 

Kathleen  was  rather  frightened  at  the  idea  of  meeting 
Larry's  mother,  as  girls  frequently  are  before  they  have 
married,  especially  when  they  know  that  the  mother's 
heart  has  not  been  keenly  set  upon  the  union. 

But  her  fright  was  as  nothing  to  the  terror  which 
Mrs.  Tooney  felt  when  she  discovered  the  amount  of 
the  bills  Kathleen  had  run  up. 

This  she  did  by  going  to  all  the  shops  at  which  Kate 
had  ordered  things,  and  requesting  that  the  bills  might 
be  sent  in  at  once  to  Mr.  Smithers,  the  lawyer,  with 
whom  Miss  Devoran  was  residing.  When  they  came, 
she  wrung  her  hands  and  bowed  her  head  in  despair, 
for  they  amounted  to  nearly  eight  hundred  pounds  ! 

*'  It's  exorbitant,  Larry  !     Such  extravagance  must 


Larry  Triumphs.  325 

be  clicoked.  I  shall  go  to  all  tlu'so  pooplc  who  haveirt 
made  dresses  to  lit  her  yet,  and  make  them  take  back 
their  goods." 

"Don't  be  harsh  to  her.  She  didn't  know  wluit  she 
was  doing." 

"I  won't  be  harsh,  bnt  for  yonr  sake  and  hers  I  must 
be  firm." 

She  kept  her  promise,  and  was  not  harsh.  I)Ut  Kate 
wept  and  bemoaned  herself  so  piteously  that  Larry  was 
under  the  impression  that  his  mother  had  not  only  been 
harsh,  but  cruel.  The  idea  of  parting  with  nearly  all 
the  pretty  things  that  she  had  acquired  with  such  pride, 
pleasure,  and  taste,  made  her  miserable. 

I^rry,  too,  was  useless  to  her  at  this  juncture,  for,  as 
he  was  obliged  to  tell  her,  he  could  not  possibly  pay 
for  the  things  at  the  time,  but,  if  the  people  would 
consent  to  wait,  he  would  undertake  to  do  so  in  a  couple 
of  years.  But  to  this  his  mother  would  by  no  means 
consent,  and  Kathleen  had  to  be  taught  to  set  about 
getting  her  "  things  "  in  a  far  humbler  way. 

"  Xot  one  penny  more  than  a  hundred  pounds  must 
be  spent  on  your  wedding-outfit,"  Mrs.  Tooney  told 
Kathleen,  who  asked  in  bitterness  : 

"  Am  I  not  to  have  ani/  thing  pretty,  then  ?  " 

"As  pretty  things  as  that  money  will  buy,"  Mrs. 
Tooney  told  her. 

And  Kathleen  bowed  her  head  to  inexorable  fate  in 
wo,  not  in  resignation. 

They  were  to  be  married  the  day  before  St.  Patrick's 
Day  in  a  quiet  little  church  in  West  Kensington,  and 
Mrs.  Larry  Tooney  fc-lt  quite  as  happy,  as  she  walked 
down  the  aisle  on  her  husband's  arm,  in  her  neat,  white- 
faced  cloth  dress  and  becoming  little  white  toque,  as  if 


326  Comrades  True. 

she  had  been  wearing  the  jooplm  embroidered  with  silver 
sliamrocks  for  which  her  heart  had  pined. 

They  stayed  in  London  till  the  next  day,  in  order  to 
see  the  Queen,  greeted  by  myriads  of  thousands  of  her 
loyal  people,  when  she  passed  through  their  midst, 
driving  slowly,  in  order  that  they  all  might  see  the 
sovereign  whom  they  all  adore — the  sovereign  who  has 
such  sympathy  with  them. 

It  was  a  never-to-be-forgotten  sight,  with  no  state 
beside  that  of  her  own  venerable  majesty  to  gratify  the 
yearning,  shouting,  cheering,  loving,  loyal  multitudes. 
She  wore  the  shamrock,  which  naturally  increased  the 
fervor,  for  English  hearts  rejoiced  in  the  honor  paid 
to  Ireland. 

Then  Larry  took  his  pretty,  excited  bride  to  see  the 
Smithers  before  he  took  her  over  to  Paris,  and  there 
they  found  Mrs.  Ogilvie. 

At  first  Kathleen  was  inclined  to  be  prettily  penitent 
about  having  disappointed  the  friend  who  had  been  so 
kind  to  her.  But  Mrs.  Ogilvie  soon  nipped  the  peni- 
tence in  the  bud  by  saying  : 

*'My  dear,  you  came  trusting  to  me  as  my  daughter. 
I  shall  treat  you  while  I  live  as  one,  and  you  will  find  I 
shall  do  the  same  after  I  die.  I  shall  begin  by  inviting 
myself  to  your  home  in  Dublin  this  summer — that  is,  if 
you  are  inclined  to  treat  me  as  a  mother." 

"  You  are  mother  and  fairy-godmother  in  one,"  Larry 
said  gratefully. 

He  knew  what  an  incalculable  relief  this  renewal  of 
her  promise  by  the  rich  old  lady  would  be  to  his  poor 
little  bride  who  had  been  so  distressed  by  the  imputation 
of  extravagance,  and  also  by  the  loss  of  her  j)retty  things. 

He  also  knew  that   Kathleen   would  get  a  warmer 


Larry  Triumphs.  327 

welcome  from  his  father  if  she  went  back  to  Dublin  as 
the  adopted  child  of  iv  rich  and  kind  woman  than  she 
would  have  had  if  slie  had  gone  back  in  the  position  of 
a  snubbed  ami,  perhaps,  slighted  daughter-in-law,  who 
had  tempted  his  sou  into  making  an  impecunious 
marriage. 

As  for  himself,  he  would  have  followed  Kathleen  all 
over  the  world,  even  if  he  had  been  sure  that  she  would 
never  have  a  penny.  Xevertheless,  the  reflection  that, 
as  far  as  money  could  do  it,  her  path  would  be  smoothed 
for  her  was  distinctly  a  pleasing  one. 

So  they  both  started  for  Paris  in  buoyant  spirits,  like 
children,  without  a  thought  or  care.  The  fairy  god- 
mother put  a  purse  in  Kathleen's  hand  just  as  they  were 
starting,  which  made  the  latter  feel  tluit  she  wouldn't 
change  places  with  the  Queen  or  ^liss  O'Shea,  or  any 
other  royal  or  rich  person  of  whom  she  had  ever  heard. 
****** 

Down  at  Errol  Castle  things  were  not  running  quite 
80  smoothly  as  the  happy  lovers  could  have  wished. 

Mr.  Bircham  was  in  that  stage  of  convalescence  when 
the  patient  is  apt  to  fall  into  a  state  of  irritability  with 
every  man  around  him,  and  intense  pity  for  himself. 

This  special  mood  was  upon  him  strongly  the  uight 
Mrs.  Clifford  and  Stanley  came  home. 

Stella  was  so  dcliglited  at  seeing  them  that  she  took 
it  for  granted  that  her  fatlier  would  be  the  same  without 
taking  his  mood  into  consideration. 

Accordingly,  when  the  three  young  peojile  went  into 
the  room  wlicre  the  still  disabled  man  sat  moping,  they 
jarred  upon  his  mood  and  nerves  by  what  he  considered 
their  absurdly  Idgh  flow  of  spirits. 

lie  had  been  reminding  himself  for  hours  of  those 


328  Comrades  True. 

lonely  ten  years  at  The  Hulk,  where  his  only  friend  had 
been  his  garden,  his  only  companions  his  thoughts. 

He  had  to  be  satisfied  with  that  life  ;  he  had,  in  fact, 
learnt  to  live  it  to  a  certain  extent.  Now  he  had  been 
taken  away  from  that  existence,  and  had  learnt  to  love 
his  daughters.  One  of  them  wanted  to  leave  him  already , 
the  other  would  be  wanting  to  go  soon  ;  then  he  would 
be  more  lonely  than  ever.     It  was  hard,  pitiably  hard  ! 

It  was  upon  this  mood  that  the  three  intruded  with 
their  happy,  laughing  voices,  and  faces  full  of  love  and 
youth  and  happiness.  It  seemed  so  callous  of  them 
when  he  was  intensely  miserable  about  something  ;  he 
was  not  quite  sure  what  it  was,  but  he  knew  that  he 
was  desperately  miserable. 

'' Father/'  Stella  began,  "isn't  it  good  to  see  Dalma 
and  Mr.  Stanley  back  again  ?  They  have  come  to  tell 
you  the  latest  news.'' 

In  reply  to  this  he  kissed  his  daughters,  and  gave 
Stanley  a  grim  smile  and  a  cool,  stiff  hand. 

"  What  did  Stanley  mean,"  he  asked  himself,  "  by 
running  about  with  a  woman  who  professed  to  be  in 
love  with  another  man,  and  that  man  his  friend  ?  " 

He  gave  them  no  encouragement  to  stay ;  in  fact, 
their  presence  obviously  made  him  ill  at  ease.  So 
Dalma,  who  was  not  acquainted  with  his  moods  yet, 
proposed  that,  as  papa  seemed  tired,  perhaps  they  had 
better  go  into  the  drawing-room,  and  wait  until  he  had 
rested. 

This  they  did,  and  then  he  felt  bitterly  hurt. 

Presently  Stella  stole  back  to  him. 

''Father — dear,  dear  father,"  she  said,  "why  won't 
you  be    happy   with   us,    and  let    us   be   happy  with 

you?" 


Larry  Triumplis.  329 

"  It's  my  own  fault ;  but  that  doesn't  make  it  easier 
to  bear,"  be  said  sadly. 

"  But  wbat  have  you  to  bear  that  we  can't  share  with 
you  ?  "  she  asked  sweetly. 

lie  shook  his  head,  and  would  say  nothing. 

"  We  all  love  you  so,"  she  went  on  pleading.  "  "Why 
can't  you  be  happy  in  our  love  ?  " 

"Who  is  'we  all'?"  he  asked. 

"  Dalma  and  St.  Errol,  and  I  and  Guy  Stanley." 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

"NOT  MORE  THAN  OTHERS  I  DESERVE." 

There  was  silence  for  some  moments,  then  Stella 
said  : 

''  Guy  Stanley  wanted  to  tell  yon  of — of  onr  attach- 
ment, and  to  ask  your  permission  for  us  to  be  engaged 
some  time  ago — before  he  went  up  to  see  St.  Errol  off. 
But  you  seemed  so  poorly,  and  were  so  upset  about 
Dalma  and  St.  Errol,  that  I  wouldn't  let  him  say  any- 
thing to  you  then." 

''Very  considerate  of  Mr.  Stanley  and  you,"  he  said 
coldly. 

"  Don't  take  it  in  that  way,  dear  father.  Our  hus- 
bands will  do  all  they  can  to  help  Dalma  and  myself  to 
make  you  happy,  and  make  you  feel  that  we  are  all 
your  children." 

'' I  can't  think  clearly  here.  I  can  never  forget  the 
fact  that  I  am  in  the  house  of  a  descendant  of  that  man 
who  loved  my  wife,  and  took  care  of  her  when  it  was 
my  place  to  do  it." 

"  Will  you  try  to  remember  that  he  took  care  of  me 
also,  and  that  if  he  had  not  done  so  I  should  have  been 
either  a  nameless  foundling  or  a  workhouse  child." 

Stella's  spirit  was  rising  desperately  as  she  tried  to 
330 


"Not   More  than   Others   I   Deserve."   331 

snbtlno  it.      Ilor  wonls  stung  her  father,  ami    ilio  sting 
aggnivjitcd  his  mood. 

"I  have  always  been  in  tlie  wrong,  and  he  has  always 
been  in  the  right,"  he  said.  "'  lie  had  rank  and  wealth 
on  his  side.  I  had  nothing  but  ill-luck,  and  so  have 
always  been  in  the  wrong.  And  now  my  own  child 
rises  up,  and  twits  me  with  my  shortcomings.  "Well, 
well  I  that's  only  natural  ;  she  was  brought  up  by  Lord 
St.  Errol." 

Stella  was  staggered  into  silence  for  a  few  moments. 
Loyalty  to  the  dead  man  who  had  been  a  true  fatlicr  to 
her  fouglit  with  that  other  natural  loyalty  which 
made  her  long  to  find  extenuating  circumstances  for 
this  display  of  unreasonable  ungenerosity  which  her 
real  father  was  exhibiting.  She  found  them  pres- 
ently, 

"  Dear  father,  I  know  you  arc  distressing  yourself 
because  the  doctors  haven't  worked  a  miracle,  and 
enabled  you  to  stand  on  that  leg  yet,"  she  suggested  ; 
and  he  grunted  a  less  surly  assent  than  he  would  have 
done  had  she  tempered  her  speech  with  any  remark  as  to 
the  injustice  of  his  last  one. 

He  knew  he  had  been  unjust,  and  regretted  it,  but 
he  was  not  going  to  betray  either  knowledge  or  regret 
yet.     So  he  fell  back  for  a  time  upon  his  leg. 

"  I  have  had  awful  twinges  in  it  this  morning,"  he 
said,  looking  at  his  daughter  deprecatingly.  "  The 
pain  would  be  a  mere  fleabitc  if  I  didn't  feel  that  I've 
earned  it  in  a  remarkably  undignified  way,  and  that  it's 
iiK-apacitating  me  from  looking  after  the  place  that 
represents  my  livelihood." 

Stella  turned  away  hastily  to  draw  a  blind  u]i,  or 
down,  anything  to  conceal  a  happy  smile.     Then,  when 


332  Comrades  True. 

the  blind  was  adjusted  to  her  liking,  she  came  back  to 
him. 

"  I  have  snch  a  happy  thought,  father.  You  would 
like  to  go  and  see  the  dear  old  Hulk  and  the  garden 
and  that  dreadful  \)oy,  wouldn't  you  ?  " 

"  It's  impossible — impossible,  I  tell  you  !  The  car- 
riage that  was  hung  on  the  smoothest  springs  in  the 
world,  drawn  by  the  steadiest-stepping  horses,  would 
jolt  me,  cause  me  excruciating  pain,  and  retard  my 
recovery — if  I  ever  do  recover,"  he  added,  relaj)sing 
into  the  "  mood." 

"  So  they  might — so  probably  they  v/ould.  No,  I 
won't  tell  you  one  single  word  more,  only  this,  you 
shall  see  The  Hulk,  and  bring  that  boy  to  his  bearings 
to-day." 

The  prosjDCct  of  doing  this  was  so  pleasant  to  Mr. 
Bircham  that  he  allowed  his  pillows  to  be  adjusted 
more  comfortably  by  Stella,  and  then  partook  of  some 
light  refreshment  which  Stella  had  arranged  should 
arrive  opportunely  at  that  moment.  When  he  looked 
up  from  the  little  invalid  table  appetizingly  set  by  his 
side  Stella  was  gone. 

"  I'm  a  miserable  old  hulk  myself  to  make  those  two 
dear  girls  unhappy  for  a  moment,"  he  thought ;  and 
then,  like  a  naughty,  repentant  child,  he  swore  never 
to  "do  it  again."  He  looked  up  at  the  portrait  of  his 
wife  as  he  thought  this,  and  a  stray  sunbeam  fell  on  it 
at  the  moment,  and  made  it  smile  upon  him. 

He  was  lapsing  into  thoughtfulness — not  into  the 
"mood" — when  there  came  a  rush  of  young  life  and 
laughter  and  blithe  doghood  into  the  room.  Jock  was 
the  one  to  do  reconnaissance  work.  He  had  been 
taught  to  "  'ware  the  leg,"  so  he  approached  the  inva- 


"Not  More  tlian  Others  I  Deserve."  333 

lid's  couch  cautiousl}- but  kindly.  As  soon,  however, 
as  ^Ir.  Bircham  liad  patted  him  on  the  liead  and  called 
him  "a  good  dog"  (which,  after  all,  was  very  inade- 
quate praise  for  Jock),  the  intelligent  four-footed  com- 
rade went  on  his  wiry,  springy  little  legs  back  by  leaps 
and  bounds  to  the  other  three,  and  gave  them  clearly 
to  understand  that  they  might  advance  with  safety. 

Almost  before  he  knew  what  was  happening  ^[r. 
Bircham  saw  a  noiseless,  well-cushioned  lounge  advance 
to  his  couch.  The  side  of  the  lounge  was  let  down, 
and  he  was  slid  into  a  comfortable  position,  his  leg 
supported  by  a  perfect  rest,  before  he  had  time  to  re- 
sist or  expostulate,  or,  iiuleed,  realize  what  was  being 
done.  lie  only  knew  that  his  two  daughters  were  danc- 
ing about  him — that  is  to  say,  Stella  was  dancing 
about  ;  Mrs.  Clifford  was  less  exuberant  in  her  de- 
monstrations of  pleasure — and  that  Mr.  Stanley  seemed 
to  have  taken  command  of  the  situation. 

**Xow,  sir,"  said  the  latter,  *'  say  the  word,  and 
we'll  start  for  The  Hulk." 

''Ready  I  "  said  the  old  sailor,  and  then,  as  he  was 
wheeled  swiftly  through  the  library,  he  added  :  "  But 
ho^  am  I  to  be  got  down  those  confounded  terraces  ?  " 

"  We've  arranged  a  gentle  slope — at  least,  Guy  has — 
covered  with  red  baize,  just  as  if  you  were  Royalty," 
Stella  told  him. 

Then,  before  he  had  time  to  hint  that  he  would  like 
to  have  some  jjhysical  weight  in  front  of  the  chair 
when  it  should  run  away  from  Stanley's  grip  and  over- 
turn, as  it  surely  would,  he  found  himself  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  series  of  terraces  in  the  broad  avenue  that 
led  to  the  higliroad. 

"  Now,  Dahlia  will  stay  Ijy  y<ntr  side  and  talk  to  you. 


334  Comrades  True. 

father,  while  I  run  back  and  pick  up  the  pony-trajD. 
She  and  I  will  drive,  and  Guy  will  wheel  you." 

In  a  moment  Mr.   Bircham's  bristles  were  up. 

"  I  won't  stand  it,"  he  said.  "  I  won't  allow  it. 
Mr.  Stanley  shall  not  turn  himself  into  a  bath-chair- 
man for  me  ! " 

''  You  sit  still,  sir,  and  leave  Stanley  to  manage  his 
own  affairs,  as  he  generally  does,"  Stanley  said  laugh- 
ingly, and  after  that  things  went  very  well  with  them. 
For  Stella  came  up  in  her  pony-trap,  and  the  two  girls 
drove  at  a  walking  pace  till  they  came  near  to  the  front 
gate  of  the  garden  of  The  Hulk. 

Of  course,  Mr.  Bircham's  daughters  had  not  been 
cruel  enough  to  take  the  little  establishment  unawares. 
As  soon  as  they  had  matured  their  plans  they  sent  off 
a  man  on  horseback  to  tell  the  housekeeper  to  warn 
the  boy  of  what  was  impending.  There  was  no  need  to 
warn  the  housekeeper.  She  was  always  ready  for  any 
emergency.  If  you  had  roused  her  up  at  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning  she  would  have  had  hot  buns  and  hotter 
coffee  ready  for  you.  But  the  boy — the  poor  little 
tatterdemalion  who  neglected  all  his  duties  as  only  a 
light-hearted,  irresponsible  young  human  being  can — 
Stella's  heart  bled  for  him  as  she  pictured  him  writh- 
ing under  his  master's  searching  glance.  So,  when 
they  were  nearing  The  Hulk  she  said  : 

''Father  dear,  Dalma  and  I  will  drive  on  and  open 
the  gate,"  and  he  assented  cheerily  to  this  proposition, 
being  engaged  in  a  debate,  fierce  on  his  side,  with 
Stanley  as  to  the  respective  merits  of  various  branches 
of  the  two  services  and  their  respective  commanders. 

The  gate  was  already  open  when  the  sisters  reached 
it.     The  little  gravel  path  that  led  up  to  the  fi'ont- 


iloor  was  so  strikingly  weedlesstliat  its  glilU'rini;- trravel 
almost  made  one  blink.  But  what  surpassed  all  under- 
standing was  the  spotlessness,  yet  thoroughly  "  work 
ing/'  appearance  of  the  boy  and  his  raiment.  lie  had 
not  donned  his  best  clothes  for  the  occasion  ;  he  was  far 
too  clever  a  young  diplomat  for  that.  But  he  had 
put  on  some  garments  that  had  neither  holes  nor 
patches  in  them — garments  that  he  had  only  been 
wont  to  wear  when  he  had  cleaned  up  for  the  day,  and 
was  sitting  down  to  his  tea  in  his  mother's  cottage  ; 
the  suit  in  fact,  in  which  he  made  night  hideous  in  the 
village  when  he  paraded  it  with  his  concertina — a 
ghastly  instrument  of  torture  which  he  fancied  he 
could  play.  lie  had  utilized  all  the  means  at  his  com- 
mand as  soon  as  he  had  received  the  note  of  warning. 
He  had  pressed  every  boy  in  the  village  who  liked  him, 
and  every  boy  who  was  afraid  of  him,  into  his  service, 
and  while  they  weeded  the  path  he  washed  iiimsclf  and 
went  in  search  of  an  attractive  bundle  of  celery  from  a 
neighbor's  garden  wherewith  to  greet  his  master.  The 
vegetable  garden  he  left  to  fate,  or,  rather,  to  the  kind- 
ness of  the  "young  lady  from  the  castle,"  for  it  was 
a  gruesome  sight. 

They  all  played  into  his  hajids.  Stanley  declared  he 
could  not  wheel  the  chair  through  such  narrow  paths. 
Then,  while  Mr.  Bircham  sat  contentedly  in  his  den, 
the  sisters  went  out  to  jiick  primroses,  and  Stanley 
pressed  his  suit. 

As  might  have  been  expected,  there  w-.is  an  absolute 
and  unconditional  surrender  on  Mr.  Bircham's  jiart, 
and  they  went  back  to  the  castle  even  more  light-heart- 
edly than  they  had  left  it. 

But  when  they  went   in  a   cablegram  was  given  to 


336  Comrades  True. 

Stanley  which  turned  all  their  joy  into  mourning. 
Under  the  command  of  one  of  the  finest  reconnaissance 
officers  in  the  army  St.  Errol  and  his  fellow  scouts  had 
been  lured  into  a  Boer  burrow,  from  the  holes  of  which 
the  enemy  had  emerged  in  their  thousands,  to  face 
and  destroy,  if  possible,  a  dozen  who  fought,  and  were 
men.  The  underground  savages  did  not  have  it  all 
their  own  way,  however.  Though  two  civilized  fell 
done  to  death  in  that  awful  drift,  the  others  escaped 
with  their  lives.  St.  Errol  was  among  them,  but 
he  was  dangerously  wounded,  and  was  being  sent 
back  to  the  base  to  die,  or  be  sent  home  hopelessly  in- 
valided. 

There  was  an  aAvful  silence  for  some  time  after  Stan- 
ley had  read  this.     Then  he  said  : 
''  I  shall  start  at  once  to  go  to  him." 
"■  And  I  shall  go  with  you,"  Stella  said,  in  a  matter- 
of-fact,  determined  voice  that  no  one  thought  of  con- 
tradicting. 

"Where  you  go  I  go,  dear,"  Mrs.  Clifford  put  in, 
clasping  her  sister  closely  to  her  heart.  "  Yes,  father, 
I  mean  it.  There  is  no  time  for  Stella  and  Guy  to  be 
married  here,  so  I  shall  go  as  her  chaperon,  and  they 
must  be  married  in  Cape  Town,  where,  if  I  find  St. 

Errol  alive " 

"  You  shall  be  married,  too,"  Stella  and  Stanley  ex- 
claimed simultaneously. 

When  they  departed  shortly  after  this,  having  taken 
what  to  him  was  a  heart-breaking  leave  of  Mr.  Bircham, 
they  could  not  have  been  recognized  as  the  happy, 
laughing  trio  who  had  planned  and  carried  out  the  little 
program  of  surprise  in  the  morning.  They  were  not 
lax  or   limp  or  in  any  way  broken  down  ;  they  were 


"Not  Move  than  Others   I   Deserve."  337 

only  all  thivo  of  them — I  mean  all  four  of  tliom,  for 
Jock  went  with  them — full  of  a  concentrated,  energetic 
purpose  to  get  to  him  as  soon  and  as  able  in  themselves 
as  possible. 

This  concentrated  energy  of  purpose  served  Dalma 
and  Stanley  in  good  stead.  But  Stella  had  to  fight  a 
foe  who  was  almost  as  nauseating  as  a  Boer.  The  fiend 
of  the  sea  struck  her  down  as  soon  as  they  got  into 
rough  waters,  and  so  she  was  lying  there,  a  helpless, 
suffering  mass  of  humanity,  for  many  a  long  day  while 
the  ship  steamed  on. 

During  all  that  time  Dalma  watched  by  her  sister 
unremittingly.  Intense  anxiety  about  the  nature  of 
the  news  which  might  meet  them  on  their  arrival  in 
Table  Bay  saved  her  from  the  physical  discomfort  of 
the  nnil  dc  mvr  under  whicli  jioor  Stella  was  laboring 
with  a  thoroughness  which  had  characterized  most  of 
her  proceedings  through  life.  But  beyond  and  outside 
this  anxiety  of  her  own,  Dalma  had  a  delicately  difficult 
part  to  play. 

There  were  times  when  Stanley  demanded  that  he 
should  be  let  see  the  girl  he  loved  so  well,  the  girl  he 
had  loved  so  long,  the  girl  who  was  to  be  liis  wife  as 
soon  as  she  could  possibly  be  ni.ule  so  after  their  arrival 
at  their  destination. 

But  Dalma  defied  these  demands.  She  was  not  a 
worldly  woman,  but  she  was  a  thorough  woman  of  the 
world.  She  had  no  intention  of  allowing  her  future 
brother-in-law  to  look  upon  bis  future  l)ride  while  she 
was  lying  there  sick,  unkenii)t,  and  painfully  unat- 
tractive in  every  way. 

**  If  I  were  her  husband   rlrei-.dy.  you   couldn't  keep 

mo  away  from  her,"  he  said  to  Mrs.  C'lilloi-d  one  day 
22 


338  Comrades  True. 

Avlien  both  he  and  she  were  feeling  remarkably  well, 
and  they  were  strolling  on  deck  together. 

"  That's  it  exactly,  my  dear  Guy.  If  you  were  her 
husband  already,  you  would  have  to  face  all  the  dis- 
agreeables of  such  a  dreadful  and  prolonged  attack  as 
dear  Stella  is  having.  IN^o  one  would  pity  you  ;  every 
one  would  take  it  for  granted  that,  as  you  were  her 
liusb;ind,  so  it  was  only  just  that  you  should  bear  half 
the  ills  that  are  betiding  her.  As  it  is,  when  our  star 
shines  out,  I  shall  be  glad  to  think  that  you  have  never 
seen  its  radiance  dimmed  for  a  moment.  Now  you 
know  my  meaning  in  the  matter,  and  you  know  I  am 
right." 

"She  will  think  me  cold  and  heartless  again,  as  she 
liad  reason  to  think  me  so  in  the  past,"  he  muttered. 

"  She  won't  be  such  a  goose.  When  she  is  able  to 
hold  her  head  up  for  a  moment,  I  lay  it  on  my  arm  and 
give  her  your  messages.  Then  for  a  few  moments  she 
is  happy,  and  then  this  wretched  old  liner  gives  a  lurch, 
and  she  forgets  everything  but  the  sea-monster  who 
has  her  in  his  clutches." 

"  I  ought  not  to  have  allowed  her  to  come,  my  poor 
darling  !  She  is  suffering  all  this  for  me,"  Stanley  al- 
most moaned. 

"Nonsense!"  Mrs.  Clifford  said  sharply;  "she  is 
suffering  all  this  because  she  is  a  bad  sailor.  Now, 
look  hero  :  don't  grizzle  over  this  trifle.  Think  of 
what  is  before  us  !  Think  of  the  heaped-up  miseries 
that  we  may  be  called  upon  to  witness  before  long. 
Think  of  the  flower  of  our  land  called  from  every  part 
of  it  lying  mangled,  dead,  and  dying,  at  the  mercy  of 
creatures  who  hoist  flags  of  truce  in  order  the  more 
conveniently  to  shoot  a  brave  and  chivalrous  enemy. 


"  Xot   More  tlian   Others   I   Deserve."  339 

Think  of  the  Avonieii  and  cliililrt'u — :iU  of  tlioin  dear  to 
some  one,  as  Stella  is  to  you — iired  upon  and  murdered 
by  these  unclean  miscreants.  And  thou,  when  you  have 
thought,  ask  yourself  why  you  should  rci)ine  because 
Stella  is  seasick,  and  you   are  not  allowed  to  see  her. 

He  heard  her  in  absolute  silence  ;  but  when  she  had 
finished,  which  she  did  with  a  pant,  for  she  had  talked 
fast  and  was  out  of  breath,  he  took  up  her  hand  and 
kissed  it.  Then  he  went  his  way,  wondering  what 
would  become  of  his  brave  little  counselor  if  the  news 
that  met  her  when  they  reached  Cape  Town  was  worse 
than  she  anticipated. 

As  they  drew  nearer  and  nearer,  it  tested  all  Dalma's 
strength  to  keep  up  the  courageous,  unselfish  front  she 
had  shown  through  all  her  life.  The  cup  of  happiness 
had  been  held  so  very  near  her  lips.  Surely  it  would 
not  be  dashed  away  at  the  last  moment  ! 

It  w:i5  liorrible  to  her  to  feel  that  it  was  a  good  tiling 
for  her  that  poor  Stella  still  continued  hopelessly,  body- 
rendingly  ill.  If  her  whole  time  had  not  been  taken 
up  in  ministering  to  her  sister,  her  heart  would  have 
eaten  its  way  through  her  body  in  its  impatience  to  get 
to  St.  Errol.  As  it  was,  the  daily  round,  the  common 
task,  nearly  absorbed  her. 

****** 

They  hati  reached  the  blessed  haven  of  an  hotel, 
where  Stella  had  been  i)ut  to  bed — but  not  to  rest  yet, 
poor  girl  I  The  awful  physical  experience  she  had 
undergone  had  taken  such  hold  upon  her  that  she  kept 
on  rocking  herself  in  her  bed,  and  then  crying  out 
piteously  to  Dalma  to  know,  ''  When  Mill  it  stop  ? 
Oh,  will  it  go  on  like  this  all  the  time  ?  Oh.  how  bmg 
will  it  last  ?     Will  it  alwavs  be  like  this  ?  "     Ami  so  on 


340  Comrades  True. 

and  on,  till  poor  D.ilma  was  almost  distraught  between 
her  efforts  to  play  the  part  of  comforter  and  her  yearn- 
ing to  be  comforted. 

Stanley  had  started  for  the  hospital  as  soon  as  he  had 
seen  the  ladies  safely  settled  in  their  hotel.  He  was 
very  prompt,  but  the  time  of  his  absence  seemed  endless 
to  Dalma. 

At  last  he  came,  and  the  speechless  agony  in  Dalma's 
eyes  and  on  her  quivering  lips  made  him  say  at  once  : 

"  He's  not  dead  ;  he  has  sailed  to-day  for  England  in 
a  liner." 

The  long-drawn-out  tension  gave  way  at  this.  To 
say  that  Dalma  "gave  way'"  would  be  to  inadequately 
express  it.  She  seemed  to  crumble  away  down  some- 
where between  a  chair  and  the  floor.  Then  it  was 
Stanley's  turn  to  play  the  part  of  tightener  of  unstrung 
nerves. 

*' Dalma,"  he  said,  "look  up,  stand  up.  You'll  be 
better  standing."  He  held  out  his  hand,  and  she  took 
it  and  raised  herself  to  her  feet.  "  Pull  yourself  to- 
gether, dear,"  he  said  gently.  "  I  told  you  he  is  not 
dead.  If  I  had  said  that  he  ivas  dead  you  could  hardly 
have  been  more  shattered." 

"  But — he  is  gone  !  "  she  moaned. 

"'  Gone  !  Gone  to  England,  where  Stella  and  you 
and  I  can  follow  him  by  the  next  steamer.  Think  what 
it  would. have  been  if  we  had  been  poor  people,  and 
had  spent  our  all  in  coming  out  to  him,  and  have  had 
nothing  left  to  take  us  back  to  him  until  I  had  worked 
to  make  it.  We  ought  all  of  us  to  go  down  on  our 
knees  and  thank  God  that  is  not  our  case.  Through 
God's  providence  we  have  been  given  the  means  of 
doing  exactly  what  we  most  wish  to  do.     Think  of  the 


"Not  More  than   Others  I   Deserve."  341 

huudrcils  of  ]>oor  fellows  who  are  in  a  wor.se  ease  than 
our  St.  Errol.*'  (At  the  sound  of  the  familiar,  well- 
loved  name  Jock  sat  up  on  his  hiiul-legs,  and  offered  a 
tremulous  front-paw  to  each  of  them.)  ''Their  wives 
and  sweethearts  haven't  the  means  of  eoming  to  them  ; 
they  must  dree  their  weird  alone.  While  as  for  the 
other  hundreds  of  poor  fellows  who  are  sent  home 
maimed,  and  halt,  and  suffering,  flirir  wives  and  sweet- 
hearts will  have,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  precious  little 
comfort  to  offer  them.  They're  all  equally  deserving. 
'  Each  one's  been  ready  to  do  his  work '  as  well  as  St. 
Errol,  yet  our  case  is  fifty  thousand  times  better  than 
theirs.  Xow,  how  is  my  little  girl  ?  Let  mc  see  her." 
"  You  shall,  Guy  :  and  I  will  pull  myself  together." 
And  she  did.  But  her  nuinner  of  doing  this,  quiet, 
undramatic  as  it  was,  made  him  feel  that  he  was  worse 
than  a  torturer  of  the  Inquisition,  in  that  it  was  Jiis 
sway  over  her  which  was  wringing  her  gentle  heart  into 
suppression  and  submission. 

It  was  for  her  good,  though,  and  through  the  whole 
of  the  voyage  home  he  never  ceased  pointing  out  the 
superiority  of  their  lot  to  that  of  others.  And  Dalma 
would  force  a  smile  and  acquiesce,  and  then  turn  away 
to  hide  her  tears  on  Jock's  alert,  intelligent  head.  He 
wa.s  only  a  dog,  but  what  a  dog,  that  little  comrade 
true  !  The  shiver  that  ran  through  his  high-bred, 
sensitive  little  frame  whenever  she  Avhispered  to  him 
that  his  master  might  be  dying  or  dead  gave  her  u 
strangely  strong  sense  of  his  sympathy.  So  strong,  in 
fact,  was  it,  that  when  tln-y  did  finally  reach  Errol 
Castle,  and  Jock  ran  in  Ijcforc  them,  she  feared  that  ho 
would  j)resently  run  back  aii<l  brc-ak  '*  the  worst"  tid- 
ings to  them. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

"  all's  well." 

The  sufficient  but  still  modest  fortune  which  Mrs. 
Ogilvie  had  settled  upon  his  son's  wife  found  small 
favor  in  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Tooney. 

''"When  a  man  has  nearly  landed  a  salmon,  he  is  not 
apt  to  be  mighty  well  satisfied  when  he  pulls  in  a 
sprat,"  he  said  to  his  wife  ;  and  Larry's  mother  answered 
him  : 

"  Larry  wiU  be  happier  with  the  sprat  than  he  would 
have  been  with  the  salmon." 

''Look  here,  now  :  the  thing  is  done,  and  can't  be 
undone  ;  but  don't  you  make  Larry  think  that  he  has 
done  a  fine  chivalrous  thing  in  marrying  a  girl  who  can 
never  lift  him  up  beyond  where  he  is  now.  The  other 
one  can  raise  and  equip  a  regiment  at  her  own  expense, 
and  that's  what  I  hear  she  is  going  to  do.  A  mounted 
regiment,  mind  you,  and  she  to  supply  horses  and 
everything.  Think  what  that  means  in  these  days  !  If 
Larry  had  been  her  husband,  he  would  have  been  made 
a  baronet,  for  as  likely  as  not  he  would  have  commanded 
it.  Think  of  that,  now  !  You've  aided  and  abetted 
in  stopping  your  son  fighting  for  his  Queen  and 
country." 
342 


"All's  Well."  343 

"He  can  still  do  that.  lie  can  volunteer  to  servo  in 
the  regiment  Miss  O'Shea  is  going  to  raise.  He's  a  fine 
horseman  and  a  fine  shot,  and  I  hope  he'll  do  it." 

**  But  he  won't  go  in  command.  It's  not  likely  she'll 
let  him  go  in  command,  after  the  way  he  has  served 
her,  and  it's  in  couimaiul  I  want  to  see  him.'* 

'*  Ah  !  I  thought  yon  only  wanted  to  see  him  fight 
for  his  Queen  and  country.      He  can  still  do  that." 

Mr.  Tooney  thought  for  a  few  moments.  Then, 
thinking  it  desirable  to  change  the  argument,  as  he  was 
not  getting  the  better  of  it,  he  said  : 

"Larry  will  liave  to  put  down  his  pair  of  horses. 
He'll  have  to  run  what  he  used  to  jeer  at — a  one-horse 
affair." 

"  He  will  not  be  so  much  worse  off  for  his  marriage 
as  that  would  proclaim.  He  will  have  the  same  income 
he  had  before  he  married,  and  Kathleen  will  have  two 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  a  year  while  Mrs.  Ogilvie 
lives,  and  five  hundred  a  year  when  she  dies." 

*'  What's  five  hundred  a  year  ?  Miss  O'Shea  will 
spend  more  than  that  on  the  Conrt  dress  she'll  wear 
when  she's  presented  when  the  Queen — God  bless  her  ! 
— comes  over.  And  think  of  the  jewels  she'll  wear  over 
and  above  the  dress  !  And  she  with  an  uncle  in  Amer- 
ica as  rich  as  herself,  with  neither  chick  nor  child  !  It 
makes  me  sick  when  I  think  of  it.  That's  what  it 
makes  me — sick  I  " 

"  Then  don't  think  of  it,  Mi-.  Tijoney.  Youcouldu't 
even  give  me  a  one-horse  affair  when  you  nnirried  me." 

"Ah,  but  you've  brought  your  children  uj)  to  be 
much  more  extravagant  than  you  were  brought  up  by 
your  mother  to  be.  It's  the  fault  of  the  age,  this  spirit 
— this  spirit  of  extravagance." 


344  Comrades  True. 

"  Yon  must  be  glad  that  circumstances  will  compel 
Larry  to  exorcise  this  evil  spirit." 

Again  Mr,  Tooney  changed  his  front. 

"  What  a  house  their  brother's  would  have  been  for 
the  girls  to  be  seen  in  if  he  had  kejDt  his  word  and  mar- 
ried Miss  O'Shea  !     As  it  is " 

''As  it  is,  the  girls  will  do  very  well,  though  they  will 
not  stand  in  the  rays  of  reflected  wealth,"  Mrs.  Tooney 
answered,  with  some  heat.  "  As  you  say,"  she  went 
on,  "  what  is  done  can't  be  undone,  and  as  I  am  busy 
making  preparations  for  the  reception  of  Larry  and  his 
bride,  we  will  not  waste  time  in  farther  discussion." 

"Preparations!  What  preparations  ?"  Mr.  Tooney 
asked. 

"  Such  as  are  fitting  for  the  reception  of  our  son  and 
his  wife,"  Mrs.  Tooney  said ;  and  then  she  escaped, 
leaving  Mr.  Tooney  to  have  that  recompensing  thing — 
a  row  with  himself. 

It  had  been  arranged  between  Mrs.  Tooney  and  her 
son  that  the  latter  and  his  wife  should  come  straight  to 
the  parental  roof,  and  stay  under  it  until  a  fitting  abode 
could  be  found  and  furnished  for  the  young  couple. 
Hitherto  Mrs.  Tooney  had  never  found  it  necessary 
nor  thought  it  needful  to  consult  her  husband  about 
her  dealings  with  her  children.  lie  had  given  her  a 
free  hand,  and  she  had  used  it. 

But  after  this  last  recorded  conversation  with  Mr. 
Tooney  she  began  to  wish  that  she  had  told  him  of  the 
arrangements  she  had  made.  They  included  a  dinner- 
party on  the  night  of  the  arrival  of  the  bride  and  bride- 
groom, and  her  heart  misgave  licr.  If  Mr.  Tooney  had 
an  attack  of  "hump"  on  the  occasion,  she  knew  that 
both  Larry  and  Kathleen  Avould  resent  it.     Moreover, 


"Alls   Well."  345 

the  other  guests  wonUl  see  it,  ami  probably  be  aimisecl 
at  it,  ami  they  (the  Tooueys)  would  be  laughed  at. 
There  was  not  one  among  the  coming  guests  of  whom 
Mr.  Tooney  stood  in  awe.  The  situation  promised  to 
be  a  painful  one  for  Larry's  mother,  but  his  sister;^ 
laughed  at  the  prospect. 

"We  all  know  that  father's  bark  is  worse  than  his 
bite,"  Doreen  said  consolingly. 

"But  1  don't  want  either  barking  or  growling  at  the 
dinner.  He  may  bark  at  me  as  much  as  he  likes  after- 
wards. But  I  want  every  one  to  go  away  and  say, 
'  How  proud  the  Tooneys  are  of  their  daughter-in- 
law  ! ' " 

"  Ah  yes  !  she's  a  nice  little  thing  enough,  and  I  hope 
Larry  will  rest  contented  with  her.  But  this  is  a  big 
thing  Miss  O'Shea  is  going  to  do,  mother — raise  a 
mounted  troop  at  her  own  expense.  Larry  will  kindle 
to  that.'' 

"  Xo  doubt  he  will  have  the  option  of  serving  with 
it.  Miss  O'Shea  won't  reject  him.  I'm  sure,  though  he 
will  be  able  to  take  his  (jwu  chaigor  and  e(iuip  hiui.sclf.'' 

"Ah  yes,  mother,  liut  if  he  had  married  her  ho 
would  have  had  command.  Think  of  that,  now  !  As 
it  is " 

Doreen  i)aused,  and  her  mother  asked  : 

"Think  of  what  ?" 

"  Why,  that  now  some  one  else  will  have  command — 
some  one  who  will  not  only  have  command  of  the  trooj), 
but  of  Miss  O'Shea  and  her  money  into  the  Ijargaiii." 

"  And  that  is — Lord  'J'andon's  brother,  I  suppose." 

"No,  it's  not,"  Doreen  laughed  out.  "  I  know,  but 
I  won't  tell." 

"  It'tj  little  I   tare  who  it  is,  since  it's  not  my    own 


34^  Comrades  True. 

boy,"  Mrs.  Tooney  said,  with  proud  indifference.    But 
she  did  wish  to  know. 

*****  * 

When  Jock  came  back  to  meet  the  rest  of  the  party 
as  they  made  their  way  rapidly  through  the  long  cor- 
ridors to  the  room  occupied  by  Lord  St.  Errol,  it  was 
evident  that  the  little  dog  was  in  lowered,  but  not 
utterly  downcast,  spirits.  With  the  unerring  instinct 
of  his  kind,  Jock  had  made  his  way  straight  to  his  mas- 
ter's door,  at  which  he  had  scratched  with  vigor.  St. 
Errol  had  heard  and  recognized  the  scratch,  but  he  was 
too  weak  to  do  more  than  smile  and  say  feebly,  "  Let 
him  in."  The  tones  were  so  low  in  which  these  words 
were  spoken  that  the  nurses  did  not  quite  catch  them, 
and  when  one  nurse  did  eventually  open  the  door,  she 
told  the  servant  in  waiting  in  the  anteroom  to  "  Pick 
up  that  dog  and  shut  him  up  somewhere.  He  has  been 
disturbing  Lord  St.  Errol." 

"  It's  his  lordship's  own  pet  dog,  sister.  It's  more 
than  my  place  is  worth  to  keep  him  from  his  master," 
the  man  stammered  out. 

"  Shut  him  up  as  I  tell  you,"  the  sister  said,  with  a 
serene  smile. 

So  Jock  was  captured,  but  not  shut  \\^.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  was  let  loose  to  meet  his  other  friends. 

"  He  must  be  ill  indeed  ;  they  have  kept  Jock  from 
him,"  Dalma  was  moaning,  when  they  heard  sounds 
behind  them  which  made  them  look  round  to  see  Mr. 
Bircham  hobbling  after  them  on  crutches. 

"  Stop,  my  children,"  he  said  coolly.  "  I'll  welcome 
you  back  properly  when  I've  paved  the  way  for  you  to 
see  St.  Errol.  I'm  with  him  constantly.  I  don't  agi- 
tate him.     Don't  crv,  Dalma  dear.     All  he  has  to  fight 


"  All's  Well."  347 

now  is  weakness,  and  the  sight  of  you  will  reinforce  his 
strengtli.'' 

Then,  witli  a  word  to  Stanley  to  ''come  with  liini," 
he  hobbled  on.  and  the  two  women  were  left  in  the 
corridor  alone,  for  Jock  had  gone  on  witli  the  men  with 
the  firm  intention  of  slipping  in  to  his  master  under 
cover  of  Stanley's  heels. 

There  was  a  meeting  shortly  which  obliterated  all 
memory  from  St.  Errol's  mind  of  tiie  terrible  campaign 
through  which  he  had  passed,  and  Dalma's  sad  experi- 
ences retired  into  tlie  limbo  of  forgotten  things.  Tliey 
came  to  a  full  understanding  in  tlie  course  of  a  minute 
without  hesitancy  and  without  false  shame  i)i  the  pres- 
ence of  the  others.  Dalma  went  up  to  the  side  of  the 
bed,  knelt  down  and  put  her  arms  round  his  neck,  and 
he  said  as  clearly  and  loudly  as  he  could  : 

"  This  is  what  I  dreamt  of  when  you  came  down-stairs 
that  day  in  the  lodgings  and  called  Jock." 

"  We'll  spend  at  least  one  day  of  the  honeymoon  in 
the  old  lodgings,  won't  we  ?"  Dalma  said. 

"  And  we'll  spend  the  day  with  you,  won't  we,  Guy  ?  " 
Stella  put  in. 

"  Our  orders  from  the  doctors  are  that  Lord  St.  Errol 
is  not  to  be  agitated  or  fatigued,"  one  of  the  nursing 
sisters  murmured  to  ^frs.  ClifTord  ;  so,  after  a  whispered 
assurance  to  St.  Errol  that  she  "  would  come  again 
soon,"  Dalma  aiul  the  others  withdrew,  and  St.  Errol 
fell  into  the  most  refreshing  sleep  he  had  known  since 
he  was  wounded. 

****** 

That  night  the  two  sisters  sat  together  in  Mrs.  Clif- 
ford's dressing-room.  In  the  midst  of  the  agony  ami 
lassitude  which  had  been    his    portion   wlu-n  he  came 


348  Comrades  True. 

home,  St,  Errol  liad  thought  of  evei-ythiug  that  conld 
exalt  and  do  her  honor  in  the  eyes  and  estimation  of 
those  about  her.  The  suite  of  magnificent  apartments 
which  had  been  known  as  the  Royal  Rooms  since  the 
memorable  occasion  when  King  William  IV.  and  his 
consort,  Qncen  Adelaide,  had  occupied  them  were 
thrown  open  and  fittingly  set  in  order  for  the  future 
mistress  of  the  castle.  The  furniture  was  somewhat 
heavy  and  overrich,  and  Dalma  would  have  been  more 
comfortable  in  less  regal  rooms.  But  it  was  St.  Errol's 
wish  that  she  should  be  the  first  to  occupy  them  after 
those  long-passed- away  royal  guests  who  had  honored 
the  Lord  St.  Errol  of  that  day  with  their  presence. 
The  mother  of  the  present  housekeeper  had  been  house- 
keeper at  Errol  Castle  in  those  days,  and  it  was  a  tra- 
dition in  the  household  that  everything  was  to  be  kept 
as  the  King  and  Queen  had  left  it.  Weekly  dustings 
and  monthly  turnings-out  had  kept  the  old-world  fur- 
niture and  trappings  fresh  and  clean.  But  everything 
was  too  magnificent,  too  richly  ponderous,  to  please  the 
taste  of  either  girl. 

"  I  often  used  to  come  in  here  and  long  to  take  that 
Honiton  lace  bed-cover  off  its  crimson  silk  lining,'' 
Stella  told  her  sister. 

"1  wonder  you  didn't  do  it;  it  would  look  lovely 
draped  over  a  white  satin  dress." 

Stella  laughed. 

''You  forget  I  had  no  white  satin  dresses  in  those 
days,  and  never  went  anywhere  to  wear  one.  What 
shall  you  do  with  the  Royal  Rooms  and  all  they  contain 
when  you're  married,  Dalma  ?  " 

Dalma  went  to  the  door  which  opened  into  the  draw- 
ing-room.     The  whole  suite  of  ai^artments  were  well 


"Alls    Well." 


349 


lighted  up.  and  together  the  two  girls  looked  up  at  the 
lofty  vaulted  roof  and  away  to  the  further  end  of  the 
grandly  proportioned  long  room. 

"  There  is  no  music-room  in  the  castle.  If  St.  Errol 
will  let  me,  I  should  like  to  make  this  one,"  Dalnui 
said  at  length.  "I  will  take  out  a  license  and  give 
concerts  here  for  the  benefit  of  the  thousands  of  poor 
fellows  who  will  come  home  maimed  and  halt  and  help- 
less from  this  awful  war." 

Stella  looked  admiringly  at  her  sister. 

**  And  you'll  be  able  to  get  down  all  the  swell,  suc- 
cessful singers,  because  you'll  be  able  to  pay  them  well," 
she  said. 

''I  shall  not  try  to  get  the  swell,  successful  ones  ; 
they  can  do  without  me.  I  shall  get  those  who  are 
situated  as  I  was — those  who  ought  to  be  successful, 
and  haven't  the  money  and  interest  to  bring  them  to 
the  fore.  I  hope  my  concerts  may  be  the  means  of 
bringing  peace  and  i)lenty  to  many  a  weary  heart  and 
body  besides  our  dear  soldiers." 

"And  I'll  build  a  little  theater  at  Rose-in-Vale,  and 
take  out  a  license,  and  do  my  small  best  to  help  strug- 
gling actresses  and  actors,"  Stella  cried  enthusiastically. 

Then,  filled  with  these  Utopian  schemes,  the  sisters 
said  good  night  to  each  other  and  parted. 

"  It  is  good  to  be  rich  and  powerful.  One  can  avert 
such  a  lot  of  misery  from  other  people  who  are  less  well 
off,  and  quite  as  deserving  and  clever  and  cultured  as 
one's  self,  only  less  lucky,"  Dalnia  thought,  after  lying 
awake  for  hours  maturing  her  scheme. 

Then,  with  a  little  gulping  sigh  (piiekly  swallowed  by 
a  smile,  she  recalled  the  days  in  the  old  lodgings  where 
she  had  first  seen  St.  Errul,  where  she  had  often  had  to 


350  Comrades  True. 

decide  whether  she  would  go  without  a  chop  for  her 
dinner,  or  give  up  the  idea  of  a  hansom  which  wonld 
take  her  in  good  time  to  fulfil  a  hardly-gained  engage- 
ment. 

One  must  be  behind  the  scenes  of  a  real  artist's  life 
to  realize  the  continual  sacrifices  that  are  made  in 
order  that  the  eye  of  the  public  may  be  gratified  by 
the  appearance,  as  well  as  its  ear  by  the  voice,  of  the 
sweet  singer  who  has  gone  dinnerless  in  order  that  ,«Jie 
may  arrive  on  the  scene  of  action  unheated,  unflnstered, 
speckless  and  smart  at  every  point. 

****** 

The  day  of  Larry's  return,  a  married  man,  to  the 
home-quarters  was  at  hand,  and  his  mother  was  at  the 
end  of  her  patience  and  her  wits.  Her  husband  had 
told  her  one  morning  that  he  would  have  variation 
made  in  the  ordinary  routine  family  dinner  on  the 
night  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Larry's  arrival.  Then  she  had 
to  tell  him  of  the  projected  dinner-party,  and  he  in- 
stantly registered  a  vow  that  not  a  drop  of  champagne 
should  flow  from  his  cellar  at  it. 

"  May  I  ask  whom  you  have  invited  to  come  and 
make  merry  at  our  disappointment  and  expense  ?  "  he 
asked. 

She  told  him  "  only  old  family  friends — peoj^le  who 
had  known  Larry  all  his  life." 

Mr.  Tooney  tried  hard  to  gulp  down  his  rage, 
mortification,  and  disappointment.  lie  had  been  born 
ambitious.  As  a  baby  he  had  howled  himself  black  in 
the  face  because  another  baby  held  a  better  bedizened 
rattle  than  had  been  given  into  his  infant  clutches. 
Ambition  had  made  him  plod  and  become  a  substantial, 
well-to-do  man  among  a  group  of  well-to-do,  substau- 


"All's  Well."  351 

tial  men.  But  it  had  not  lifteel  him  above  them  ;  it 
had  not  made  the  respectable  name  of  Tooney  to  ring 
in  the  land  ;  it  had  not  brought  him  a  baronetcy,  or 
even  kuightliood — honors  which  lesser  men  had  obtained 
because  they  had  made  good  beer  or  buttons,  or  some 
other  stuff  to  the  making  of  Avhioh  he  liad  never  applied 
his  brains.  But  when  Larry  grew  up  his  father  merged 
all  his  self-])ride  in  his  son.  Larry,  with  his  quick 
brain  and  physical  masculine  beauty — Larry,  with  his 
dulcet  tongue  and  '^  air  to  the  manner  born  " — would 
mark  an  epoch,  his  father  felt  sure,  in  L-cland's  social 
history.  And  now  Larry  had  thrown  away  a  million- 
airess and  his  chances — had  wedded  a  comparative 
pauper,  and  would  have  to  show  before  Dublin  in  a 
'*  one-horse  affair." 

No  wonder  that  his  father  was  sore  as  he  ran  through 
the  roll  of  what  Larry  might  have  been  had  it  not  been 
for  his  pernicious  perversity. 

****** 

Doreen  Tooney  and  Miss  O'Shca  had  continued  their 
friendly  relations  just  as  though  Larry  had  never 
existed.  There  was  no  false  sentiment  about  ^liss 
O'Shea,  and  no  maudlin  sympathy  about  Doreen ; 
therefore  the  two  girls  got  on  well  together.  It  was  to 
Miss  O'Shea  that  Doreen  carried  her  home  troubles  in 
re  the  return  of  the  Larrys,  and  the  dinner-party  in 
their  honor. 

"  I  don't  mind  about  them  a  bit,''  Doreen  said 
frankly.  "  Larry  will  laugh  everything  off,  and  stand 
between  Kathleen  and  any  slight.  But  it's  the  mother 
I'm  thinking  of — the  poor  mother.  She  wants  to  be  so 
happy  when  siie  greets  her  boy,  and  she'll  just  bo  a  rag 
— a  miserable,  unhappy  rag." 


352  Comrades  True. 

"  Why  ?  "  Miss  O'Shca  asked. 

"  You  may  well  ask  why.  Just  because  father  will 
damp  us  all  down  and  iron  us  out  flat." 

"  He^ll  be  ashamed  to  show  temper  before  his 
guests." 

"  Not  he.  Larry's  all  the  world  to  him  ;  and  if  he's 
angry  with  Larry,  he  will  think  little  of  the  whole 
world  knowing  it.  Poor  dad  !  I'm  sorry  for  him,  too. 
He  looked  to  Larry  to  make  such  a  name  and  place  for 
himself  ;  and  now  that's  over." 

"  There  is  no  need  for  it  to  be  over.  He  has  a  Avife 
who  will  spur  him  on,  I  think.  Doreen,  do  you  tliink 
it's  too  late  for  your  mother  to  invite  me  to  the  welcom- 
ing dinner  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit.     But  yon  wouldn't  come  ?  " 

^'  But  I  would,  and  I  will.  And,  what's  more,  if 
your  mother  will  invite  Lord  Taudon  he  will  come 
too." 

''  No  ! " 

"Yes." 

"But,  dear,  we  don't  know  Lord  Tandon,"  Doreen 
argued. 

"  Leave  that  to  me.  You  shall  know  him  this  very 
day.  Ask  your  mother  to  come  to  tea  with  me  to-day 
at  five,  and  I'll  introduce  Tandon  to  her.  He's  going 
to  marry  me — 1  hadn't  told  you  that  yet — and  we'll 
both  come  and  help  to  welcome  Larry  and  his   bride." 

The  program  was  carried  out  exactly  as  Miss  O'Shea 
proposed,  and  her  action  to  a  certain  extent  muzzled 
Mr.  Tooney — before  strangers.  But  to  his  wife  and 
family  he  expressed  himself  freely. 

"  She's  a  fine,  noble  girl,  is  Miss  O'Shea,  and  Tan- 
don's  a  lucky  man  to  have  caught  her  in  the  rebound. 


"Alls  Well."  353 

I  hope  you'll  be  satisfied,  when  you  see  them,  Avith 
wlmt  you've  done  to  spoil  Larry's  cliancos.  I  hope 
he'll  feel  and  look  ashamed  of  himself." 
*'  If  he  did  you  wouldn't  own  him,  father." 
"  Tandou  can't  hold  a  candle  to  him  for  looks,"  Mr. 
Tooney  muttered,  finding  some  poor  solace  in  uttering 
depreciatory  words  of  his  son's  rival. 

"  Who  can  ?  "  ^Ers.  Toonoy  asked  proudly  ;  and  then 
the  daughters  laughed  at  them  both  for  their  exagger- 
ated pride  in  Larry,  and  so  harmony  was  restored. 
♦  *  *  *  #  * 

"  I  am  sure  of  your  mother  and  sisters, — they'll  be 
kind  and  sweet,  1  know  ;  but  I  lun  afraid  of  your  father, 
and  simply  terrified  at  the  idea  of  meeting  Miss  O'Shea 
by-and-by.  Do  you  think  she  will  set  the  whole 
neighborhood  against  me  ?  " 

Larry  pulled  leisurely  at  a  cigarette  before  he  an- 
swered, lie  knew  nothing  of  the  home  troubles,  and 
had  almost  forgotten  ^liss  O'Shea. 

**  I  should  think  not — I  mean,  of  course  not.  By 
the  way,  I  had  almost  forgotten  that  I  am  to  ride  her 
horse  at  the  point-to-point  races  next  week.  I  suppose 
that  engagement  won't  be  ''  oil,"  though  the  other  is." 

**  How  can  you  speak  so  coolly  about  it,  Larry  ':"' 

**  Because  I  think  I  know  Miss  O'Shea  better  than 
any  one  of  the  others  do.  She's  a  fine-naturcd  girl, 
witiiout  a  bit  of  vindictiveness  in  her,  and  with  a  great 
regard  for  pluck.  If  I  went  about  with  a  hang-dog  look 
she'd  despise  me.  lint  as  I  shall  hold  up  my  head  and 
face  her  like  a  man,  she'll  treat  me  as  one." 

"  How  could  you  give  her  up,  thinking  highly  of  her 
as  you  do  ;  Kathleen  asked  almost  jealously. 

But  she  j)ut  jealousy  aside  after  the  home-coming 
23 


354  Comrades  True.  I 

dinner,  and  accepted  Miss  O'Sliea's  invitation  to  be  the 
first  guests  she  and  Tandon  received  after  their  honey- 
moon. 

*****  * 

Neither  of  the  two  sisters  wonkl  consent  to  be  made 
happy  before  the  other  one  ;  so  the  two  couples  were 
married  by  special  license  on  the  same  day.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Stanley  went  away  for  a  brief  honeymoon.  Lord 
and  Lady  St.  Errol  perforce  remained  at  Errol  Castle 
until  such  time  as  he  could  be  conveyed  to  the  seaside 
with  safety. 

Jock  was  very  happy,  but  ho  felt  sometimes  that  it 
would  have  been  more  satisfactory  if  he  could  have  kept 
all  four  of  them  under  his  eye.  However,  he  is  a 
sensible  dog,  and  quite  understands  that  they  will  soon 
all  be  reunited. 


THE  ENB. 


3   1158  00617  9039 


I'j-^'T""^'"'  SEJION*,   .Silin.   (Ai-i:  ■!. 


A     000  117  744     3 


